


Dry Martinis and Ice-Cold Beers

by phoenixyfriend



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Action & Romance, Also elements of:, Alternate Universe - Agents of SHIELD, Alternate Universe - Baby Driver, Alternate Universe - Burn Notice, Alternate Universe - James Bond Fusion, Alternate Universe - Kingsman Fusion, Alternate Universe - Leverage Fusion, F/M, M/M, Medium Burn, Multi, Open Relationships, POV Alternating, Polyamory, Shiro and Ryou have a bunch of Die Hard but it doesn't show up, Threesome - F/M/M, Torture, okay moving on:, spy AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-04
Updated: 2018-07-04
Packaged: 2019-06-05 01:05:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 29,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15159038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phoenixyfriend/pseuds/phoenixyfriend
Summary: Allura is a fresh Kingsman Agent, on one of her first assignments in the field. Things go horribly, horribly wrong.Lance is a former CIA agent, burned to hell and back and just trying to enjoy a London vacation he won in a lottery. Things go horribly, horribly wrong.They need to run, they need to hide, and they need to get out alive. They may have help, but so do all their enemies.Things somehow go very, very right.





	1. This was Supposed to be a Vacation, Dammit

**Author's Note:**

> The art for this story was done by @anidragon and can be found here:  
> http://anidragon.tumblr.com/post/175527735962/my-entry-for-the-allurance-big-bang

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: unnamed characters get shot, knocked unconscious, and in one case, stabbed through the head

Two months. That was all the experience she’d had in the field so far, and they were sending her on something _this sensitive_.

She took a deep breath.

 _You’re a Kingsman agent, Allura_ , she reminded herself. _You are among the best, so act like it!_

Allura closed her eyes and breathed out slowly, forcibly unclenching her fingers. Opening her eyes, she got to work. Bulletproof suit and a hat with recording technology, both of them classy, but still normal enough. Her own natural appearance was... well, she was striking to the point that it was a detriment to spy work, but wigs and hats did wonders for hiding her hair, and recent trends meant that silver wasn’t really even _that_ strange of a color for a woman in her early twenties to have. Said hair got braided up into a bun anyway, because she really didn’t need it getting in the way if she got in a fight.

Allura pulled out her computer and activated the bug she’d planted on the concierge on her way in, and settled in at the hotel room desk to wait for the right signal.

o.o.o.o.o

Lance rolled his head around as he got out of the taxi, neck cracking loudly. He paid the driver, grabbed his luggage, and headed for the lobby.

He slapped the voucher on the counter with a wide smile, pretending he didn’t see the concierge’s disdainful look at the scruffy suitcases. Times were hard, okay? It had been a while since he’d been able to buy brand new versions of things that didn’t actually need replacing for anything other than unnecessary aesthetic reasons. He hadn’t exactly had anywhere to press his clothes between the plane and the hotel, either, and he wasn’t going to wear _oxfords_ on an hours-long trip when sneakers were so much more comfortable.

He’d won a damn vacation, with a fancy hotel room and fancy tours and a fancy plane ride all the way to London, and he wasn’t going to let some snooty local ruin it for him.

“What’s shakin’, bacon?” He asked as the man picked up the hotel voucher for the trip, because Lance wouldn’t be Lance if he didn’t spout off a corny line to either flirt or irritate, and he was absolutely in the mood to do the latter right now.

The concierge jolted on the spot, eyes flicking between the voucher and Lance’s face. “Excuse me a moment.”

Lance smiled and nodded understandingly, and internally cursed as he wondered if the hotel was about to reject him because this random guy took offense to the line. It wouldn’t be the first time someone refused him service for bullshit reasons...

“Apparently,” the concierge said, coming back from whatever he’d checked at the computer, “We double-booked your room. The sponsoring party agreed to cover the price change for the open one we’ve moved you to, so congratulations on the upgrade.”

Wait, what?

“I’ve called someone down to help take you and your... luggage... up to the room,” the concierge said, giving his suitcases another look.

Lance fought the urge to roll his eyes. “Thanks.”

He couldn’t wait to just take a nice hot bath, unwind a bit, and _not_ have to worry about the same shit he did back in Miami.

Though, something tickled at the back of his mind...

o.o.o.o.o

_There!_

Okay, so the contact was younger than Allura had expected, maybe even a year or two younger than _her_ , but he’d arrived and that was the important part. He’d even shown up early. Allura had already set things up for him, so if he just followed the pre-arranged procedures, they’d be fine. He would stay the night to sell the bit, and she’d play bodyguard until the handoff tomorrow night.

Did she need to go say hello? Introduce herself?

...well, she did have to check to make sure he was the right person. He’d given the right passcode, and had the right cover story, but that wasn’t entirely reliable. She had to be certain.

Allura waited fifteen minutes, then left her room and headed for his. She kept her weapons hidden, her smile pleasant, and her guard up. The second her contact had entered the building, he’d been in danger, and likely even before. If he was anywhere near as much of a professional as she’d been told, he’d know to stay aware in transit, but he was probably starting to relax now that he was in the hotel, which was obviously a terrible idea.

She knocked on the door, and tilted her head with an even wider smile when the contact opened the door. “Hey, I’m Sarah Cricket. We talked on the phone? I’m here about the contract?”

“No, I’m sure I’d remember talking to a girl with a voice as nice as yours,” the contact said, leaning against the doorway and unscrewing the cap to his water bottle. “Wouldn’t mind listening to it a little more, actually. I only just got in, but if you’re willing to give me a few minutes to change, we could do a little talking in person? I saw a great bar on my way in.”

Allura wasn’t sure where to take this.

Um.

Hm.

He hadn’t even let her get to the identifying phrases.

“That... actually sounds great,” she lied, looking him up and down appreciatively. Oh well; at least he was pretty, even if this was starting to look like a bust. “I’ll meet you down there.”

“Lookin’ forward to it.”

o.o.o.o.o

He told her his name was Henry.

If she was just someone random that got the wrong room, then it wouldn’t matter, but if she was there for the kind of reasons people usually came to Lance for, then it could end up saving his life.

 _Fuck_ , he wished he could still access his bank accounts.

**From: Red**

**Hey asshole, did you land?**

**To: Red**

**Awwwwwww u do care!!!!! <3**

**Yeah, I’m in my hotel room. Super swanky.**

**From: Red**

**Ugh.**

**To: Red**

**Gotta go**

**Met a cute chick and I’m gonna talk to her**

**Buy a few drinks**

**See if it goes anywhere**

**From: Red**

**??? Partner.**

**What if she tries to kill you?**

**To: Red**

**Not gonna happen.**

**And I thought we weren’t doing the exclusivity thing?**

**From: Red**

**We’re not, but...**

**Nyma.**

**Was a thing.**

**That could happen again.**

**To: Red**

**...shut up**

**From: Red**

**What if this is a trap?**

**To: Red**

**Not everything is a trap. OMG I’ll be fine. It’s just drinks and I’m**

**Uh**

**From: Red**

**...**

**You’re what?**

**To: Red**

**Nvm**

**I’m fine dude**

**I’ve got a bayard**

**From: Red**

**OH**

**Okay but answer when I call.**

**I still think this was a bad idea.**

**To: Red**

**Let me enjoy my vacay**

**From: Red**

**You’re burned. The only reason you even got out of Miami was Katie.**

**To: Red**

**Oh no, I’m going into a tunnel.**

**From: Red**

**I thought you were at a hotel?**

**Wait.**

**Oh, fuck you.**

**To: Red**

**< 3 <3 <3 <3 <3**

Okay, so Lance was a bit of a little shit too.

And, yeah, Pidge’s forgeries were the only reason he managed to get out of the country. He’d needed a fake passport for a reason. But come on. He’d never even really _wanted_ the job, just kind of fallen into it as weird shit kept happening to him, and now his life was screwed over because some uppity boss dude decided he needed to have his identity erased, with no _credit_ , no _cash_ , no _job history_ , all his accounts fucking _frozen..._

Lance just wanted to relax and forget about the mess for a week.

He just wanted to flirt with a pretty person and drink some fruity cocktails and see all the bits of London he’d had to skip before because of work. No missions for the CIA meant no jobs, no looking over his shoulder, no shoot-outs. He could enjoy himself and just _be a damn tourist._

...okay, maybe a little looking over his shoulder.

He still had a lot of enemies here. Those previous visits hadn’t exactly endeared him to the local crime elements. There was still a chance somebody would try to shoot him.

But!

The point!

The point was that he wasn’t going out in search of said crime elements this time.

This time, Lance was here to chill the fuck out.

o.o.o.o.o

Allura was careful about her drinks. She had one fruity drink, and then stuck to club sodas.

‘Henry’ did the same.

She probed on that, and he only shrugged in response. “I’m here because I won a trip in an online raffle. I’m saving my money for souvenirs, not booze.”

The night didn’t go much of anywhere, though he proved to be an interesting conversationalist. She found herself getting dragged into a half-hour conversation on Alexander the Great’s military maneuvers, which somehow led into an hour on Shakespeare and then forty-five minutes on Star Trek.

Allura wasn’t sure how any of that happened, especially since she knew basically nothing about Star Trek, but it was interesting nonetheless.

It ended simply, with a pleasant goodbye and Allura going back to her rooms, heart climbing into her throat.

She couldn’t tell if this was her contact.

He didn’t respond to all of the phrases properly, but he responded to _enough_ , and the way he moved just screamed secret agent. On the other hand, he clearly wasn’t trying to kill her, or he’d have at least tried to poison her drink or invite her back to his rooms.

Allura dug her hands into her hair, forcing herself to breathe deep and slow for a bit, and then allowed herself a short shower, followed by pinning her hair back into the solid bun that would hold up to a fight, or a nap, or a break-in.

She headed for the room. She had a datachip to steal back. If this really was the contact, then she’d deal with the consequences, but she had a feeling he wasn’t.

Unfortunately, that was the point at which all hell broke loose.

o.o.o.o.o

Lance woke up to the sound of gunshots.

_ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!?!?!?!_

He rolled off the bed and onto his suitcases as the windows shattered, still in his bathrobe.

For fuck’s sake, why? _Why?_ Who the hell had he pissed off this quickly?

He scrambled through the contents, searching for the gun he’d managed to pick up between getting off the plane and getting into the taxi. He hadn’t been lying when he’d told Keith that he was packing heat, but he’d only done it as a precaution. This wasn’t meant to be a job! It was vacation!

Distantly, he heard the door open, and when he turned around, it was to see the woman from earlier barging in, gun up, to shoot out the window. He _definitely_ saw at least three bullets hit her, but maybe she was wearing Kevlar or something? Fuck. Whatever.

Lance hid the gun.

The woman rushed over, grabbed his hand, and pulled him to his feet. “Come on!”

Stumbling, Lance followed.

Okay, so, no gun, no problem. This lady had a gun. Pretty lady that had gotten drinks with him had a gun. Right. He could do this.

“What the _hell_ is going on?” Lance demanded.

“You’re not Ozark, are you?” She asked.

“I have _no_ idea who that is,” Lance told her. “Also, hi, _why are there people shooting at me?”_

“They think you’re my contact,” she said, checking a hallway and then pulling him along down it. “I was supposed to be meeting someone to oversee an exchange of information and then play bodyguard until he got to MI6. They think you’re him, so they’re trying to kill you.”

“Great,” Lance said, already cursing anything and everything. “So where _is_ this Ozark guy?”

“Don’t know, need to find out,” she grunted, pulling him down the stairs. “But you’re dead unless you stay with me, so let’s go.”

Lance really wished he was wearing some shoes. And pants. A jacket would be nice right now.

“Is your name really Sarah?”

“No, but it’s what you’re going to call me.”

o.o.o.o.o

Allura cursed herself as she ran out of the hotel, dragging an unprotected civilian with her. They weren’t going to be safe anytime soon, but he’d be a hell of a lot safer on the run with her than he would be left alone back there.

Right?

 _...right,_ Allura told herself. He’d definitely be safer with her. He’d have gotten shot back in that room, but with her, he at least had a chance.

“What the _fuck_ is going on?” he demanded.

“I already told you,” Allura sniped, trying to figure out where to go from here.

“Yeah, funnily enough, that didn’t really explain jackshit,” the civilian said. “Also, hey, fun fact: you are making me run down a cement sidewalk barefoot.”

“Uh-huh.”

“There is _glass_ ,” he insisted. “Barefoot! On glass! That’s a problem!”

“Whine later,” Allura said. “We need to run.”

“This was supposed to be a vacation!”

o.o.o.o.o

Lance knew he was being a little difficult.

In his defense, running across glass hurt like a bitch and made it harder to _keep_ running. He’d have appreciated any good footwear right now, so long as it protected his feet and let him run.

Even crocs.

He’d kill for some crocs right now.

At least this lady seemed to have a conscience. Even though he was probably slowing her down, she’d made the choice to bring him with her.

“They’re most likely ransacking the hotel room to find the missing datachip,” she said. “It’ll buy us a little time, but not much. They’ve most likely sent at least a handful of people after us anyway.”

“And who are ‘they’?” Lance asked, hissing as he stepped on something very sharp and Not Fun. “Are we on the run from the cops, the mob, or something bigger?”

“Something bigger and very much not on the side of the law,” the secret agent lady said. She paused at a corner, checking around it, and then they were off again. “Or good things in general, really.”

“The law and philanthropy aren’t really the same thing, ‘Sarah,’” Lance grunted.

“I’m well aware.”

Lance held off for a while, waiting until he couldn’t find a trace of anyone chasing them anymore, and even the agent had slowed down a little.

He pulled her into a suit store.

“Wh--”

“I _think_ they’re going to have a little more trouble finding us if they don’t have to just ask for the guy running around in a bathrobe,” Lance said, voice flat. “Unless you have a better idea, Princess?”

She made a face, scrunching up her nose in a way that was honestly adorable. “I suppose I can expense it.”

“Great!” Lance said, turning on the spot and heading for the nearest shop assistant, who looked a little overwhelmed. “We’re in a rush and I can’t stay for a proper fitting. Off the rack, business. Light jacket, extra pockets, peak lapels preferred but I’m not picky. Got anything in blue?”

o.o.o.o.o

What infuriated Allura the most was that he wasn’t _wrong_ , per se. He was definitely going to stand out less if he was dressed properly, and--

“Mind if I take a break to use the bathroom while you do those last minute adjustments?”

\--well, there were other amenities.

She busied herself taking care of the actual payment. Kingsman coffers ran deep, and a few purchases made to save a civilian life weren’t going to be a big problem. Off the rack, too, which was cheaper even with the adjustments.

Allura snapped up the bathrobe as soon as the civilian ran off to try on some clothes, and fished out the datachip that had been sewn into the collar. She needed to rip the seams to do it, but she only got half a glance from one of the employees for the noise. They made a point of ignoring the strangeness, and offered to help whenever she appeared to need it.

Money knew money, really. She was one of the types they saw regularly, even if the others weren’t quite as blue-blooded as she.

(She was set to inherit an entire dukedom, after all. Even in Britain, there weren’t many on that level.)

It took another five minutes for ‘Henry’ to be done with the bathroom and changed, and Allura grew fidgety as time wore on. She fiddled with the sash around her waist, the pad of her thumb running along the control seam at the edge. It was finicky and hard to manage, but it was one of her favorite secret weapons.

She needed to call Coran.

“Merlin?”

“Ah, Sir Gawain!” Coran said, answering the video call with a twinkle in his eye. “How goes it?”

“The contact didn’t turn up and his room was taken by a civilian,” Allura said, pressing back between a rack of suit jackets and the wall. Anything to muffle her voice from unwelcome ears. “Ozark is missing, and I’m busy trying to keep a civilian alive because he happened to accidentally wind up in the room that we’d planned to use for the exchange. We’ve already been shot at and had to run.”

Coran’s brow furrowed in clear concern. “Where are you?”

“A middle-class suit shop several blocks from the hotel,” Allura told him. “I had to get him some actual clothing. He was running ‘round in the bathrobe and pants!”

“You talkin’ ‘bout my boxers, Princess?” A head poked around the rack, and the civilian grinned at Allura. His hair was damp, like he’d tried to use some water from the bathroom sink to give it some semblance of order. “I’m ready when you are.”

Allura fought down the immediate reaction of ‘oh dear, he’s quite pretty, isn’t he?’

(It was actually something closer to ‘Oh no, he’s hot,’ but Allura wasn’t quite ready to admit that. She was only just comfortable with admitting she found him attractive in the first place, and that was _after_ an entire evening speaking with him earlier.)

“I need to go,” Allura said, ending the call on Coran’s goodbye and faint promise of sending aid, and turned to face the civilian. He stepped aside for her to slip out from between the wall and the jackets, and then held his arm out to her.

He also stole her hat and slipped it onto his own head.

“Shall we, Princess?”

“I am _not_ a princess,” Allura informed him.

“Yeah, but you act like one,” he laughed. He grinned when she slipped her arm through his, knowing that despite her misgivings, pretending to be a couple would certainly do a better job of keeping eyes off of them than most covers.

o.o.o.o.o

Lance was, despite everything, _good_ at his old job.

Covers? Yeah, he could do them. Could do them in his sleep, even. _Had_ , on one particularly strange occasion.

(Hunk still gave him shit about it, sometimes. Loving shit, but still shit.)

(Pidge was worse.)

So when Lance had a pretty girl on his arm and a need to stay low, he knew what to do.

He smiled, and chatted, and when the street was free enough, he stepped away and spun her, drawing a giggle out. Good. She could play along.

“ _So_ glad I came to visit, babe,” he said, leaning close and craning his head like he was just _that_ impressed by the buildings. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love Miami, and I sure as hell prefer the weather there, but there’s a _history_ here that I just can’t feel back home, y’know?”

She rolled her eyes, but kept up the smile. “You could just move here, you know.”

“But then I wouldn’t be able to enjoy the sun and sand,” Lance whined, pouting dramatically. “Can’t leave the beach, you know. Where would I go surfing?”

“I’m sure we could figure something out.”

They kept it up for a while, and Lance’s heart started to slow down. He was still on tenterhooks, refusing to be lulled into a false sense of security, but too long without actually being attacked made the adrenaline wear off.

He didn’t even have a gun.

What he did have, despite himself, was a stolen phone.

Okay, so, desperate times, desperate measures, he’d figure something out later. Pocketing the smartphone from one of the employees had been _ridiculously_ easy, considering who Lance was, and he’d used that bathroom break for more than just taking a piss.

“ _You fucking what?”_

_“Shut up and help me, Pidge!”_

_“Oh my god, I can’t_ believe _you, ugh.”_

_“Is that GPS tracker still active?”_

_“The phone you’re using or the one you got literally two hours after finding out you were burned?”_

_“The one you gave me with a scalpel to the abs, Pidge.”_

_“Yeah, it’s active. I’ll get something done. Keep the phone with you for now. I’ll figure it out.”_

_“Thanks, Pidgeon.”_

_“Blegh. Anything else?”_

_“She was waiting on a guy called Ozark, I think. Know the name?”_

_“Uh… sounds familiar. I’ll look into it.”_

So yes, Lance had a phone, and probably backup, soon. He wasn’t sure which backup, but since this was London, he had… a feeling.

That was when the gunshots started again.

o.o.o.o.o

Allura swore, grabbing the civilian by the collar of his jacket and hauling him into a narrow alleyway, already sprinting. He kept up this time, thankfully. Getting him shoes had definitely been a good idea.

Not _her_ idea, to be fair, but it was still a good one.

“Fuck this,” the civilian griped, following her up a fire escape. He was fit enough to keep up with Allura’s freerunning, which was definitely a plus. “This is _not_ what I signed up for.”

“Shut up and let me help you!” Allura snapped back, vaulting up over the edge of a building and rolling to her feet. The civilian followed.

She could hear stampeding feet behind her, on their way up the fire escape.

“How’s your parkour?” Allura asked.

“I can keep up,” the civilian said, which she’d just about expected, given the stairs.

“Great.”

She set off at a sprint, jumping off the edge of the roof and landing a story down on the building next door. She only glanced over long enough to make sure the civilian was following before she went on.

Part of her wondered if she should start referring to the man by his name, rather than just mentally calling him ‘the civilian,’ but she was starting to doubt that both the name and his claims to civilianhood. Civilianship? To being a regular person.

Gunshots started again, and Allura had a feeling that the people chasing them had decided to just shoot them from the roof they’d left instead of following them down.

It wasn’t a bad plan, honestly. Allura was wearing a suit that could block bullets, but the civilian wasn’t.

Something collided with her legs, and she went down with a yell.

Thankfully, the something was a person, and not a rope. People were much easier to handle than weapons.

Combat was always a bit of a blur. If someone hit Allura, she hit back. She’d been trained for situations where not hitting back was a death sentence. Those situations were far more common in _her_ life than in most people’s.

She had her attacker laid out and unconscious in seconds, and was already on to the next by the time her brain had caught up with the situation. Their pursuers had split up, half staying to shoot from the roof, and half following to attack them personally. The shooting had stopped for the moment, though, and Allura guessed they were trying to close in to provide backup for the physical combatants.

_Where’s the civvie?_

She turned around, fought off a third attacker, and finally laid eyes on the scene she’d been dreading.

“Sorry, Princess,” he said, arms hanging at his sides as he tried not to tempt his captor into actually shooting the gun to his head. “I’m really not the best at hand-to-hand.”

The fact that there were two downed bodies at his feet that she’d had nothing to do with said otherwise, but he also carried injuries that she didn’t. The arm around his throat tightened, and the Galra Corp. agent bared her teeth.

“I don’t know who the hell you are,” she said, “But you’re going to hand over the data, now.”

“Not on your life,” Allura spat.

“Nor his?” The agent asked, a click emanating from the gun. Allura wasn’t sure what she was trying to prove; the safety had been off from the start.

“This data is more important than the life of a single man,” Allura said, mind racing. She wasn’t lying, but she didn’t want a death on her hands, not now.

“Really? Then prove it.” A finger pressed on the trigger, and--

Clicked.

“You know, I’m not good at hand-to-hand,” the civilian said. He tossed something at Allura, and she barely caught the too-short throw. “Sleight of hand, though… _that_ , I can do.”

It was a bullet magazine.

“Sorry, ma’am, but it looks like you’re going to have to use something else to kill me,” the civilian said, smiling in a way that would have been charming if not for the situation.

The Galra agent growled, reaching for a knife.

Allura went to pull her gun.

The civvie tensed.

And then, a blade sprouted from between the agent’s eyes.

The civilian rolled forward as the agent’s arm went slack, and Allura’s breath left her in a relieved sigh as she saw who’d decided to step in.

“You know, when Coran said you needed help, I wasn’t sure what to expect,” Lotor said, wiping the blood off of his blade. “However, I find that I’m unsurprised.”

“Old friend?” The civilian asked, rubbing at his neck.

“Something like that,” Allura said, walking closer to check on the injuries her charge was sporting. “He’s an ex.”

“Amicable, though,” Lotor said. He slipped the sword back into its sheath, once more disguised as a cane, and knelt to the ground to examine one of the bodies. “So my father’s involved in your mess, then?”

“It’s not _my_ mess,” Allura huffed. “But yes, it does look to involve the Galra Corporation.”

Lotor made a face. “Lovely. I notice you didn’t use the sash.”

“No time,” Allura said. She got to the civilian and started looking him over. Her mind went back to the bullet magazine.

“Fair enough,” Lotor said, distracted by the unconscious body at his feet.

“When did you have time to steal that?” Allura asked, pressing her thumb to a bruise and drawing a hiss from the civilian.

“When she was first pushing me into position,” he said, trying to escape the examination. “I’m a street brawler, not all fancy like you. But I’ve got weird skills and know how to use them to stay out of trouble, mostly. Miami’s got a lot of shit going down, and you get used to getting around it after a while.”

That didn’t quite ring true, but Allura didn’t have time to dissect his story right now.

“They’ll be sending more, soon,” Lotor said, looking back at where the shooters had been. Allura wasn’t sure what had happened to them, but she knew how Lotor worked, and how he felt about his family and their business. The enemies that had been on the roof were now incapacitated, however Lotor had chosen to go about it. “We’ve only a few minutes.”

“You guys some James Bond types?” The civilian asked, tilting his head until his neck cracked.

“MI6,” Lotor said, lips quirking in amusement. “So yes, a James Bond type. This isn’t quite under my purview normally, but my friend here and I go back quite a ways. When I heard she needed backup, and that her usual sources of such were out of the country… well. I simply had to join in.”

“You’re an arse,” Allura told him.

“I’ve heard that before, and frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn.”

Allura punched him in the arm.

o.o.o.o.o

Lance didn’t risk pulling out his stolen phone, not while he was here with two unknowns. They were nice so far, but he hadn’t missed how they’d avoided the question of just who ‘Sarah’ worked for.

The GPS tracker resting under a reopened, rehealed appendectomy scar felt like it was burning up from inside him, even though Lance knew that, logically, it was never going to be more than a fraction of a degree warmer than he was. Pidge had explained all the dangers to him before she’d implanted it, and being cooked alive from the inside out wasn’t quite an issue. Any burning was purely psychological on Lance’s part.

He headed for the roof edge as Lotor and ‘Sarah’ talked behind him, eyeing the streets. His fingers went tap-tap-tapping against the short wall, gaze flicking from person to person. The conversation behind him faded to white noise, and he fingered the stolen gun and cartridge.

What? It wasn’t like _they’d_ been paying attention to his hands. Mr. and Mrs. Smith over there were too busy talking about whose dad’s megacorp was trying to kill them all with stolen information. It hadn’t been that hard to pilfer one… or two… okay, _three_ guns.

His eyes narrowed in on a suited figure. Then another. Lance watched the street, checking the patterns, the behavior, the clothing and body language. Fifteen seconds, and he’d confirmed it.

Lance wondered, for a moment, if he should just _tell_ the two behind him what he was, but claiming “con artist who got into shenanigans in Miami” was probably safer until he knew what was going on.

So feigning impatience it was.

He walked right past them to catch their attention, rather than yelling and possibly catching the ear of someone he’d rather not have finding them quite so quickly. Lance looked over the edge at the alley below and wondered how easy it would be to disappear. Not very, probably. They wanted crowded streets and parking garages, not quieter areas like this.

He took off his suit jacket and mussed up his hair. He pinched his cheeks until he was sure they were pink, loosened his tie, and unbuttoned his shirt. Making sure it looked even more rumpled than just the fight had left, he set off and climbed down the fire escape.

“What are you doing?” Secret Agent Lady asked, leaning over the short wall.

“Pretending I’m drunk,” Lance told her, slinging his suit jacket over his shoulder. “Not sure who’s coming or what they’re looking for, so I’m gonna be the drunk American tourist who keeps acting obnoxious enough for people to instinctively avoid meeting my eyes.”

They stared at him.

Lance winked as he reached the bottom of the building, just two stories down. “You’re welcome to join me!”

They did, surprisingly enough. They didn’t change their own looks, but rather took on the roles of concerned local friends trying to convince the visiting out-of-towner that maybe, just maybe, it would be best to get home instead of heading for another pub.

“Taxi!” Lance called, stumbling towards the street. “Hellooooo~! Taxi!”

“Let’s not do that,” Lotor suggested, pushing Lance’s arm down and ignoring the exaggerated pout. “Perhaps we can get you some water, and sit down for a while.”

“You c’n take that wa’er ‘n shove it up y’r ass,” Lance told him, then threw his head back and cackled, swaying dangerously far to the right and into Lotor’s side.

Lotor and ‘Sarah’ exchanged looks.

“I’m sure I can call a more reliable service,” she said, hand inching towards her pocket. “Perhaps you--”

“Naaaaaaaaaaah,” Lance drawled out, slinging an arm over her shoulder and spinning her around. “We’re good! We’re having fun! Live a little, babe!”

She made a sound that was _suspiciously_ similar to a squeak as she struggled to regain her footing.

“Good heavens,” Lotor muttered, barely audible. He sounded amused. Boo.

They kept going like that for a few blocks, and after half a mile, Lance was starting to feel a little more comfortable. Not safe, considering the situation, but a little less like danger was breathing down his neck.

He stumbled towards a convenience store, then paused, and frowned. “Hey, uh, you two wouldn’t happen to have any cash on ya, huh?”

“I do,” Lotor said, still sounding more like he was watching a show than like he was trying to be helpful. “Might I ask why?”

“My throat feels like a gorramn desert,” Lance whined, leaning back heavily on the secret agent lady who still hadn’t told him her real name. “Ew. Gorramn. Gorramn? Listen to me, I sound like the mullet.”

Lotor bit his lip, hiding a smile. “That water I suggested a minute ago is sounding better, then?”

“Ffffffffuck you,” Lance hissed, stumbling against the wall and letting his head loll forward.

“It’ll certainly head off that hangover you’ve spent the night building,” Lotor continued.

“Fuckin’ _rude_ ,” Lance huffed, but let the agents herd him inside. He laughed and headed for the Gatorade. “Let’s get one of these, it’s got _electrolytes._ ”

Neither of them seemed to get the reference.

Lance was of the opinion that his genius was chronically and criminally underappreciated.

‘Sarah’ pulled him close as Lotor took care of actually buying things, and pulled his head to her shoulder. He smiled and giggled and breathed in the scent of her shampoo, like the drunk he was pretending to be.

“We’re going to try to get you to a safe house,” she said, voice too quiet to carry far over the hum of the refrigerators. Her hand tightened on his shoulder as he let out another fake laugh. “Lotor’s going to take you there while I work on finding Ozark.”

“I’ve got friends too, Princess,” Lance said, and laughed again when she rolled her eyes.

“Not like MI6, you don’t,” she told him. She patted his shoulder. “I’ll be leaving you soon, in that case, but--”

The windows were shot out.

“Oh, _come on,”_ Lance shouted, dropping to the ground. A glance out of the corner of his eye at least confirmed that the man at the counter had done the same, and was as safe as a real civilian in this situation could be, and there weren’t any other customers at the moment.

Small mercies, he supposed.

o.o.o.o.o

Allura was screaming, inside her head. Outside of it, she just grunted and tried to figure out a way to get through this. She wasn’t sure how they’d been found, but it was definitely not a situation she was eager to allow to continue.

She just also wasn’t entirely sure how to get out.

Lotor caught her eye from across the aisle, and then reached into his pocket. He pulled out something small and black and--

The civilian stood up.

He had pulled a gun out of nowhere that Allura could see, and had it pointed right out the blown doors. He kept himself mostly hidden behind the wall, ducking out for a fraction of a second at a time to let off a handful of shots before hiding again. There cries of pain from outside, and at least one scream.

“What are you doing?” Allura demanded.

“Saving our lives,” he said, and then made a face. “Well, no, I’m really just stalling.”

“For _what?”_

The civvie shrugged. “Help.”

He stepped out again, letting off three more shots, and an enraged yell hit Allura’s ears.

She removed her sash, ready to get involved, but was interrupted.

There was a screech of tires outside, mixed with several loud thuds, and a sudden lack of gunshots.

The civilian sprinting outside before Allura had so much as a chance to stop him.

“Keith!”

“Get the fuck inside, asshole!”

Allura followed, only to see him climbing into an armored SUV. Big, bulky, and black with some curious purple accents, it was not an easily-hidden vehicle. The civilian was already climbing inside, and Allura… well, Allura had made this man her responsibility, so she rushed over too.

“You know this person?” She demanded.

“One of my best friends,” he confirmed, shutting the door. “Getting in, Princess?”

“They’re good!” Lotor shouted. Allura hesitated, but… Lotor’s word meant more than she liked to admit, sometimes. She trusted him, and so she followed.

The inside was sparse and clean. Buttons covered the inside, marked in a way she didn’t recognize. A strange smell lingered in the air, but it was a faster way out of trouble than just running around like they had so far.

The man at the wheel hit the gas and the car jolted forward, zero to sixty in just seconds, and Allura grunted as a swerved corner threw her into the wall.

“You still drive like a maniac,” the civvie--who _clearly wasn’t just a civilian_ \--complained.

“Fuck you.”

“Just don’t take us off another cliff.”

“ _Fuck you.”_

Lovely.

“You’re from the Blade of Marmora, aren’t you?” Lotor asked, and Allura clenched her jaw. She absolutely was _not_ enjoying the sensation of being the least-informed person in the car.

“I am,” the driver said. “He’s not.”

The civilian poked the driver in the shoulder, lightly enough that there at least wasn’t a risk of going off the road. “I’m still not sure what’s going on.”

“That’s because you’re a moron.”

“I’ve got more info than you do!”

“Nope, Pidge got me caught up with stuff she couldn’t securely transfer to you, so I win.”

“Oh, go fuck a cactus or something.”

“ _Excuse me_ ,” Allura interrupted. “What is the Blade of Marmora?”

“Merlin will know,” Lotor told her, and the driver’s eyes flicked over to meet hers before focusing back on the road. “I’ve… been at some of the meetings, between MI6 and the more free-floating organizations.”

(Lotor was older than Allura, and had been playing this game for far longer than the relatively minor age difference would have suggested. Allura knew how he’d gotten involved, all the little stories about his family and his choice to break away and do whatever he could to make the world _better_ than they did, even if that ‘better’ sometimes involved putting his license to kill to use.)

“You’re going to get us pulled over,” the definitely-not-a-civilian whined.

“Marmora clearance, they’re not going to do shit.”

“...how hard did you have to try just now to avoid saying ‘th’ain’t’?”

“Dude, we have so many more important things to--”

Several shots bounced off the car, and Allura was far from the only one who swore.

“Just one car,” Lotor said, turning to look through the rear windshield. He didn’t seem concerned. “I don’t suppose you have any caltrops?”

“Lance,” the driver grunted, fighting centrifugal force through another turn. “Glove compartment, Shiro’s birthday, four digits, American style.”

“Gotcha.”

Allura blinked. Lance? That was… fitting, actually. Far better than Henry, at any rate.

Her fingers itched to do something as she saw him pull a gun out of the glove compartment, but she wasn’t a particularly impressive shot, and shooting was currently the only way to fight.

“Well, that’s not safe,” Lotor muttered, as Lance hefted his upper body out the window and leaned back, precariously balanced with one knee against the ceiling and the other ankle hooked around the arm rest.

“Don’t die, dumbass!”

“Then try not to swerve, fucker!”

Lance took a shot, and the car behind let off an awful hiss of steam. It started to slow down, too, and Allura’s heart twisted as a final handful of shots came their way. They bounced off a translucent purple barrier that faded back to invisible soon after, and Lance whooped.

“Are they friends, do you think?” Lotor asked, seeming far, far too composed, given the situation.

The driver (and Lance had said his name, he _had_ , but Allura had lost it in the jumble of activity, and quite frankly she was disappointed in how she was carrying out this particular mission, at this point) made an annoyed noise and shouted back at them, “Be ready to reel him in, just in case!”

Allura bit her lip, considered, and then vaulted through the gap between seats to take the passenger side. Lance squawked, a thoroughly undignified sound, but didn’t actually fight, even as Allura readjusted his legs so he wouldn’t fall out if the driver made another ridiculous move.

The driver did, in fact, give her a curious look, a pursed-lip smile like he wanted to suppress amusement, and Allura couldn’t even pretend that she didn’t understand why.

“We’ve lost the tail for now,” Lotor said, and Lance slithered back into the car.

Right into Allura’s lap.

Because of _course_ he did.

“Hey!” He said, with a wide smile. “Come here often?”

Allura felt her jaw drop. Of _all the lines…_

“Save it, loverboy,” the driver grunted.

“Keith,” Lance said, drawing out the word and letting his head fall back, just out the open window. Allura immediately pushed it back up, and then closed the window, because there really wasn’t a point in presenting more weaknesses than necessary. “Buddy. Bro. Babe. Buh… Babushka?”

“Did you just call me a Russian grandmother because you ran out of words that start with B?” Keith asked.

(So that was his name. Hm.)

“Beloved,” Allura suggested.

“Bitch,” Lotor added, once more with the air that he was having more fun watching the shenanigans than his investment in the actual mission warranted.

Lance narrowed his eyes at Lotor, nose wrinkled up in thought. “I don’t like you.”

Lotor smiled. “I don’t care much.”

“Much?”

“Well, it would be easier to keep you alive if you liked me, I imagine,” Lotor said. Allura had to crane her head to see him, but his pose was obvious. He was _lounging_ , head on his fist, elbow on the door, a lazy grin on his face.

(It was a pose built of lies, based on what she knew of him, but still. He looked good, despite the evening they’d been having.)

Allura dragged her attention back to the situation at hand, namely, that she wasn’t sure where to put her hands. She hesitated for a moment, and then pulled out her phone.

“Oh, hey, that reminds me,” Lance said, looking at the phone, and then over at Keith. “You said Pidge got in touch beyond just telling you I needed an extraction?”

“You needed saving,” Keith corrected.

“About as much as you did in Bahrain,” Lance said, a comment that really just brought up more questions than answers.

“You’re looking for Ozark,” Keith said, glancing at Allura for a moment before his eyes went back to the road. “One of Olia’s.”

Allura considered him for a moment, and then nodded. “Yes. You know him?”

“No, but he’s… a friend of a friend,” Keith said. He nodded at Lance. “Remember Matt’s circle?”

“The, uh, Rebellion folk?” Lance asked, tilting his head. “Yeah. Some better than others, but yeah.”

“Nyma,” Keith said, and then laughed when Lance groaned. The levity was short-lived, though. “But yeah, I’ve got word about Ozark. We’ve got someone spreading feelers to see if we can find him. We’ve got word on the other side of the exchange, basically, and they’re checking to see if and when he lost contact.”

“Responsible boy,” Lance teased, and Allura may have side-eyed him for that.

(It was… a strange way to poke fun.)

And then, once again: gunshots.

Joy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm... admittedly late in posting this, _but_ the end result is about 29k, rather than the minimum 10k, so hopefully that makes up for the delay.
> 
> I will be posting one chapter a day. There are four chapters total. Enjoy!


	2. I Got You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Would you like to call a friend?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: a named character gets shot

Lance was trying very hard not to acknowledge the fact that he was sitting in the lap of a very, very pretty woman who could probably kick his ass with one hand tied behind her back. The gunshots helped with that part, honestly, though he figured he was probably a little mentally twisted from all his years as a spy if he thought gunshots, in _his direction_ , were a good thing.

“Get them off our tail,” Keith snapped, and the window was rolling down. Lance yanked off his jacket, then shoved himself up and back. He trusted that his erstwhile friend would make sure he didn’t get _too_ hurt, and took aim.

(He… _mostly_ trusted her.)

Keith swung into a turn, and Lance curled his free hand around the roof rack. He could feel the wind in his hair, the setting sun on his skin, and the burn of adrenaline in his veins.

God, he missed this sometimes.

He still did good work in Miami. He was still good at what he’d been trained to do. But there was something _special_ about a hastily thrown-together team and tech beyond what anyone thought was possible. There was something especially nice about hanging out the window of a car, gun in his hands, as Keith sped through the twisted entrails of an ancient city like the other cars were the easiest thing in the world to avoid.

Lance had gotten used to this, once upon a time. His body still remembered how to tense and bend so he’d be fine, even when Keith was at the wheel.

It helped that his every shot hit the mark, too.

Lance took advantage of a turn to push his sleeves up and out of the way, then cursed and clung to the roof again as Keith pulled a near one-eighty to change directions on a V-shaped intersection.

Swing one way to avoid a car, swing the other way to avoid a pedestrian, feel Keith hitting the brakes to skid around fire hydrant, take a shot while the car was still going smooth, cringe in expectation of tomorrow’s pain as he skipped a curb, shoot.

The grip on his legs was almost painful.

Keith swung the car around and backed up a side street, and Lance had to lean over and cling to avoid getting his hand or head scraped against the brick wall. He hissed as the smallest of the cars chasing them followed with ease, the passenger pulling out a gun that did not, by any means, look normal.

On the third shot, the forcefield shattered.

Lance’s eyes widened, and he immediately tried to pull himself back inside. The shooter didn’t stop, of course. She just kept shooting.

“Son of a bitch!” Lance shouted, pain arcing through him as several shots grazed him, and one hit his shoulder directly.

His injuries _sizzled_.

With a yank, his new friend pulled him back into the car, and immediately tried to get a look at the wound. Keith just focused on the road, and Lance watched as streets flashed by.

“Is he stable?” Keith demanded.

“With medical attention, he should be fine,” she said. “Probably. I can’t get a good look at the wound with all the jostling. Do you have any fabric to stuff into the wound?”

“What about your sash?” Keith asked, pulling through another swerving turn.

“That’s… really not suitable for a wound,” she said.

Lance just started pulling off his own shirt.

“Or that, that works,” Keith muttered. He slammed on the brakes, and Lance didn’t _scream_ as the movement made his injuries hurt worse, but it sure as hell wasn’t comfortable either.

“What happened?” he asked around a few gasps.

“Line of little kids crossing the street,” Keith said, fingers tapping away at the wheel with anxiety. “Didn’t have a good way of just… going over or around them.”

“Good reason to stop,” Lance laughed, which quickly turned into a groan. _Fuck_ , that hurt.

“They’ll be out of the way soon, the folks behind aren’t being quiet about the shooting,” Keith muttered.

There was a shuffling noise behind, and Lotor’s finger tapped lightly at Keith’s shoulder. “If you don’t mind, could you open the sunroof?”

Keith’s eyes flicked over, but he nodded and pressed the button to do so. “They’re still shooting and the overhead forcefield isn’t as strong as the windows.”

“Much obliged,” Lotor said, and Lance could just barely see him pull something out of his pocket and stand up.

And then there was light.

And then there was screaming.

Lance jerked in place at that. ‘Sarah’s’ arms tightened around him, holding him still.

The light from behind, bright even from that angle, shut off, and Lotor sat back down. He pulled off a pair of sunglasses and put away the object.

“They’ll be blinded for at least a few minutes,” he said, voice still pleasant. “And I believe we can--”

Keith stepped on the gas.

“Oof,” Lance huffed, shoulder still stinging.

“It looks… oddly cauterized,” the secret agent lady said.

“You know, I don’t think I ever got your name,” Lance said.

“I never gave it.”

“Aw, c’mon, you got mine,” Lance laughed. “I mean, it was through Keith, sure, but you got it.”

She looked down at him, visibly calculating, and--

“If it means anything, I got your name three minutes ago,” Keith said, and she started spluttering.

“What!”

Keith grinned at Lance’s delighted laughter, even in the middle of the pain. “We know one of the best hackers on the _planet_. Facial recognition software and the car’s camera took care of the rest.”

There was anger on her face, but also embarrassment. Lance laughed weakly again.

“I don’t wanna be the only person left out of the big secret,” he wheedled. “I won’t tell, I just want something to call you.”

“...Allura,” she finally said.

“Duchess of Altea,” Keith completed, and Lance cackled a little at how Allura’s nose scrunched up in irritation.

“That’s a beautiful name,” he told her. “Suits you.”

Allura frowned at him. “Are you… quite alright? You’re looking rather pale, and you’re laughing more than the situation warrants.”

Lance blinked, and it felt like an age before he could open them again. He looked down at his wound. “Um.”

Allura’s fingers came up to his throat, feeling for pulse.

“He needs medical attention, now.”

o.o.o.o.o

Allura held Lance closer to her chest as Keith aimed for a small alley, just barely large enough for the car.

“Move him to the back,” Keith said, flipping open a small panel. “Lotor, lay him down, cover him up. Allura’s still got his jacket. Can either you cover up your hair?”

Allura pulled at her sash as soon as Lance had been maneuvered to the backseat. “Somewhat? I can use this as a wide headband.”

“Good enough,” Keith said, chewing at his lip. “Lotor, can you take your jacket off?”

“I’m afraid it’s bulletproof,” he said. “So I’d prefer not to.”

Keith’s breath came out in a whoosh. “Then find a way to hide who you are. Lean over and pretend to be taking a drunk nap on top of Lance, if you have to.”

He finished modifying whatever he’d been poking at on the panel, and the upper half of the car shimmered into holographic translucence.

“It’s going to look like a convertible from the outside,” Keith said, continuing to fiddle, and the translucence faded even further.

He pulled a cowboy hat out from a side pocket, and Allura gaped.

He shrugged. “Who’s going to be looking for _this?_ ”

Allura closed her mouth with a light click of teeth, and Keith turned back to the road ahead, pulling back out onto the streets.

Allura pulled on the sash, covering up as much of her hair as she could, given just how much volume her hair had. She then slouched, back and to the side, and waited.

The rest of the drive was, thankfully uneventful.

Keith took them to a parking garage, out of the way and mostly deserted, and came to a stop in a distant, secluded corner. A single press of a button had a disc in the floor twisting and descending, and Allura felt like she was back in a Kingsman facility.

“So,” Allura said, shifting minutely. “Lance. What’s his story?”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s clearly not just a civilian,” Allura said. “So… what is he?”

“...I think you should ask him that yourself,” Keith said. “He’s not too cagey about it, and we already got info on you that you were hoping wouldn’t be shared, so he’ll probably want to share back. He’s weird like that.”

“I see,” Allura said, looking over her shoulder.Lance had long since stopped tossing out remarks, mostly just sleeping to conserve energy, his head pillowed on Lotor’s lap.

Lotor met her eyes, and then looked to Keith. “You’re one of Shirogane’s, aren’t you?”

Keith choked out a surprised laugh. “One of his? That’s… uh, that’s an interesting way to put it.”

“The adopted little brother,” Lotor clarified.

“There was never any paperwork, so it’s not official,” Keith said.

“Wait, Shirogane?” Allura asked, the name tickling at her memory. She looked at Lotor. “Isn’t that man who owns the bar you go to?”

“Twins,” Keith corrected. “You’re the fancy guy that Ryou mentions sometimes?”

“He mentions me?”

Keith paused, turned around to look at Lotor, and then turned to face forward again with a small smile on his face. “Sure, once in a while.”

“I wasn’t aware I’d left an impression.”

Keith stifled a snort, and Allura looked between the two men, eyes slowly widening.

She looked at Lotor and mouthed, _Really?_

He shook his head and mouthed back, _I’ll tell you later._

“You know I can see you both, right?”

Keith wasn’t smiling, but the look on his face wasn’t as desperate as Allura might have expected, in a similar situation. The car shuddered to a halt in its descent, and a door slid open in the wall. He drove forward, and Allura immediately set to cataloguing the space.

It was wide, a hangar with far more room than she thought would fit the building codes of the area. It was similar to the Kingsman base in size, but Allura wasn’t entirely sure how the planes and such got out, considering it was a residential district, rather than a distant estate like the Kingsman headquarters. Part of her wondered how she hadn’t known about this place, or at least been warned that such an organization existed by Coran, but this entire mission had been an exercise in finding out how little she’d been told about things.

She took solace in the fact that, while Lotor _did_ clearly know more than her, he at least had the excuse of having been in the field for years longer than she had.

“Uncle Kolivan!” Keith called, parking the car and waving to the large man headed their way. “I’ve got Lance, and he needs medical attention.”

“Again?” Kolivan asked, eyebrow arching in a way that looked strange against the scar over his eye.

“Fuck you,” Lance groaned as Lotor helped him out of the back. “I don’t get injured _that_ often.”

“Well, if he can still talk, then regular medical attention will do just fine,” Kolivan said.

“Cradle, right?” Keith asked, falling into step with Kolivan. He glanced back to make sure that Lotor and Allura were following. Lotor was carrying Lance, bridal style, and it _almost_ looked funny. The hallways were dark, mostly metal, and black and purple paint, unwelcoming but strangely safe.

“It’s currently unoccupied, so yes,” Kolivan said. “No Tahiti, though.”

“Fuck Project Tahiti,” Keith said, curling his lip. “I’m already dealing with fallout from that.”

“Fallout from what?” Allura asked.

Keith looked at her, and then at Kolivan, and then at Allura again. “So my mom almost died while she was pregnant with me, and the thing they used to save her life involved aliens. There was a… congenital effect?”

Allura tried to process that, while Lotor made an amused sound. “I’ve had a rather similar experience.”

“Yeah?”

“My mother was the head of research and development for a certain subdivision of Galra Corp. She was exposed to a certain type of energy that had some rather strange effects on me, also during pregnancy,” Lotor said, and smiled. It was not a happy smile. “I imagine you and I could have some interesting conversations.”

“Well, if Ryou likes you…” Keith sounded dubious, but there was a grin playing at the corners of his face. Allura felt like she’d been left out of the loop again, but something in her relaxed as the now-silent walk brought them to a well-lit room that looked like a medical wing.

“Ulaz! Get the Cradle!” Kolivan called.

“I feel like you’re all reacting with far less worry than a wound this severe warrants,” Allura finally commented.

“I mean… we have really good medical equipment?” Keith offered, though clearly wincing. “And he hasn’t bled out yet, so he’ll be fine.”

“I’m gonna live forever,” Lance said, with an exhausted laugh. “To infinity and beyond.”

“Okay, sharpshooter,” Keith said, sounding amused. “Now let Ulaz do his magic, yeah?”

“Sure, sure…”

o.o.o.o.o

Lance took a nap.

It wasn’t _necessary_ to be asleep or unconscious in the Cradle, but he preferred it, so he did. He was with the Blade, and, philosophical differences aside, he _did_ trust them with his safety. Specifically, he trusted Keith.

He woke up to bright lights and the sight of a beautiful woman at his side.

“Hello,” Allura said, eyeing him strangely. She was sitting in one of the vaguely uncomfortable chairs that were scattered across the medical wing, her arms and legs both crossed. “How are you feeling?”

“Way better than I was a few hours ago, that’s for sure,” Lance said. He pushed himself up to sitting. “So, how long have I been out? When did they finish?”

“You’ve been asleep for three hours, and they finished over two hours ago,” Allura answered. Her fingers went tap-tap-tapping against her arm. “I offered to stay here, since I expected they wouldn’t enjoy having to assign me an escort as I roamed the area.”

“Huh. Where’s Keith and Lotor?”

“Getting food,” Allura said. She kept staring at him, brow furrowed. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure, princess,” Lance said, grinning despite the apprehension. He sat up fully and stretched, neck cracking as he tilted it from one side to the other. “What’s up?”

“You’re not a civilian,” she said, visibly weighing her words. “So… what are you?”

“Well, I’m a civilian _now_ , technically,” Lance said. “Legally speaking, I don’t think I’ve ever been anything else. Or possibly anything at all. It’s kinda confusing.”

She raised one eyebrow.

“I’m former CIA,” Lance admitted. He stretched again, looking away. “I got burned a year and a half ago.”

“I see,” Allura said. The way she tilted her head suggested she wanted more, though.

Lance shrugged. “When you're burned, you've got nothing: no cash, no credit, no job history. You're stuck in whatever city they decide to dump you in. You do whatever work comes your way. You rely on anyone who's still talking to you: a knife-happy ex-boyfriend; a barely-legal hacker who tries to pick up where the law leaves off; family too—if you're desperate. Some former-Special Ops guys running a bar in Brooklyn, maybe. Bottom line: as long as you're burned, you're not going anywhere.”

“Yet you came to London,” Allura pointed out.

Lance grinned. “Well, _most_ people aren’t going anywhere. I’ve got the hacker I mentioned on speed-dial, though. She’s _really_ good.”

Allura nodded, frowning. “Keith is the ex?”

“Ex is… eh…” Lance winced. “It’s complicated. We’re on-and-off, I guess. Open? It’s weird.”

“I can tell,” Allura said flatly. The corner of her mouth ticked up, though, which Lance counted as a win. “Do I get to know why you got burned?”

“I don’t know myself, so…” Lance shrugged. “I’m not that bothered by the fact that I got fired, honestly. I was _good_ at my job, but I didn’t necessarily _like_ it, you know? I’m mostly bothered by the lack of job history, and all my accounts being frozen. If I’m not doing CIA work anymore, I’d like to have some money and the chance to get a new job doing something else, you know?”

“What _were_ you doing?” Allura asked.

“Freelance security consulting and street shows,” Lance said, grinning and wiggling his fingers at her. “I’m good at sleight-of-hand, if you didn’t notice, and people like the acrobatics.”

“Do they, now?” Allura smiled, indulgent, and Lance metaphorically patted himself on the back. “I’m sure it involved a little less active shooting than today.”

“Well…” Lance laughed nervously and scratched the back of his head. “Usually, yeah. But hey! I was always a bit of a diva, and street performances brought that out of me.”

“And a good shot,” Allura pointed out. She ran her tongue over her lips, and bit them, and Lance tore his eyes away to meet hers again with difficulty. “Why didn’t you like your job with the CIA?”

“Never had as much information as I needed to know that I was doing the right thing,” Lance said. “And I didn’t get a lot of leeway in _choosing_ my missions. Basically, I just didn’t trust my bosses to be putting me on cases that actually led to the betterment of the world and not, you know, human rights abuses.”

“A common worry?”

“The United States government is not my idea of an ethical employer, no,” Lance muttered. “Kinda stumbled into the job in the first place, was almost glad to get out, etcetera.”

“I see…” Allura said, tilting her head. “You did infiltration?”

“Among other things,” Lance said, grinning. The grin fell after a second. “So, backstories aside, what’s up with your mission or whatever? That Ozark guy?”

“I’ve heard little since I arrived,” Allura admitted. She unfolded herself and leaned forward to rest her elbows on her legs, nose wrinkled in thought and irritation. “My primary contact is having difficulty finding out what happened.”

“Keith was in contact with our hacker…” Lance mused. He bit his lip, staring at a spot on the wall. “She might be able to find something?”

“Or…” Keith slid into the room, deceptively casual. “She already has.”

“You’ve been hanging out with your mom again, haven’t you?” Lance asked. He couldn’t help but roll his eyes when Keith shrugged. “You always pick up on the drama when you spend time with her.”

“Hypocrite.”

“Whatever,” Lance dismissed. He smiled, though, and settled back against his pillows as Keith grabbed a chair and passed over a sandwich. Lotor strode in, handing off a small box of mixed food to Allura, and took up a post of his own in the corner, straight-backed and with folded arms and _not_ like he’d just been through a car chase and some fights and not yet had a chance to shower or change clothes.

Rude.

“So, turns out Ozark is part of the Olkarion Network,” Keith said. “Friend of Pidge’s brother, actually. He’s putting out feelers, so we’ll probably have information on that in an hour or two.”

“The Rebellion?” Lotor questioned.

“Yeah, some people call it that,” Keith said. “I think I might’ve mentioned that earlier, but we were being shot at, so…”

“You have a lot of contacts,” Allura noted, eyes on Lance again. “Still in the game?”

“Well,” Lance hedged, drawing the word out and glancing at Keith, who shrugged with a rueful smile. “It’s hard to get out of the game, even after someone kicks you out.”

“Especially when all your friends are involved, one way or another,” Keith said. “By the way, Allura?”

“Hm?”

“Kolivan made some calls, and…” He made a face. “I don’t know when, or how, but he apparently knows one of your superiors?”

Allura sat up straight, eyes wide. “Does he?”

“Yeah, your Merlin? He seemed kind of smug about it, I don’t know,” Keith waved it off. “Anyway, we’re getting out in an hour. Anyone have a plan?”

“Perhaps,” Lotor said. Lance looked at him, only to find that Lotor was staring at him.

“What’s up?”

“Alejandro Alvarez,” Lotor said, tilting his head. “I spent some time in Russia, a few years ago. Your story… Russian Intelligence told it to trainees, to scare them. The monster under the bed. They said... well, they said that you were one name for many people. A full Special Operations team. They still think one person couldn’t possibly cause so many problems.”

Lance laughed. It was only a little bitter. “Nope, just little ol’ me.”

“The Blue Lion,” Lotor said, and Lance felt his heart skip a beat.

He forced himself to breathe out slowly. “Haven’t heard that one in a while.”

“I expected as much.”

Lance looked over at Allura, who was looking from Lance to Lotor to Keith and back with a calculating look on her face. Lance then looked at Keith, who just shrugged, because he was unhelpful like that.

“So does one of you have a plan, or am I going to have to do all the work this time?” Allura asked.

She grinned, too.

Lance felt his heart speed up, and a smile of his own tugging at his lips. There’s a low heat, just barely a simmer, that came up when he saw the smug, excited grin Allura was wearing, and _that_ was something that would really need to be examined later.

“I’m listening,” Lance said, tossing off his covers and swinging his legs around so he could mimic Allura’s pose.

o.o.o.o.o

Allura had the basics of a plan, and she pulled in more information on resources and options as she went through it with the boys that she now realized were her team. She hadn’t really planned to have a team, but it appeared that she had one, and she wasn’t exactly upset by it either.

Lance had been dragged into this by accident. Lotor was involved since MI6 had been in on the plan from the beginning. Keith had outright volunteered from what appeared to be a mix of fondness for Lance and sheer enthusiasm for causing chaos for groups like Galra Corp.

And they were her team.

(It helped that ‘Pidge’ had sent them an absurdly encrypted message indicating that she’d located Ozark, somehow. People knew people knew people, and that had, at least, given them a direction to go in.)

Lotor pulled her aside before they stepped into the nondescript black hatchback, while Lance and Keith argued about nothing much at all.

“Should I be worried about your emotions?” Lotor asked.

She gaped at him. “ _Excuse_ me?”

He held up his hands and leaned back, an amused smile on his face. “I’m not implying that you’ll let emotions get in the way; you’re very professional, I know. But I do care about you, and I don’t want you to get hurt, and…”

“And?”

“You don’t know him very well,” Lotor said carefully. “And I’ve seen you jump a little too quickly into relationships, platonic or otherwise, before.”

She gave him a look that was as deadpan as she could manage. “You mean like I did with you?”

Lotor shrugged, a smirk playing on his lips. “Guilty as charged, Sir Gawain.”

Allura rolled her eyes and cuffed him on the shoulder. “I’ll be fine. I can hold back until we’ve wrapped up the mission, and then I’ll take it slow. You should worry about yourself.”

“Hardly.”

“Oh? And those twins they mentioned?” Allura poked him in the arm, smiling and bouncing her eyebrows perhaps a little more than necessary.

Lotor looked away, the faintest of blushes on his cheeks. “I met him a _year_ ago, Allura. That’s hardly jumping into things.”

“Does he know you’re MI6?” Allura asked.

“He’s most likely guessed,” Lotor admitted. “I did some digging, after he dangled the information in front of my nose. Former Special Ops, both of them. Dangerous, but… better people than you’d expect, given their profession.”

“Hm.”

“Rather a lot like yourself.”

“Flatterer,” Allura said, elbowing him. “Let’s go take our seats and hope Keith’s driving doesn’t get us arrested before we make it to the aerodrome.”

Lotor tucked his hair behind his ear, pulled on a woolen gatsby cap he’d magicked up out of absolutely nowhere Allura could see, and offered her his arm.

She gestured at his head in clear exasperation instead.

“I like the way it looks.”

“It looks _absurd._ ”

“I still like it.”

She laughed and sat down in the car, and only then turned and realized that she was sharing the back row with Lance.

“Hey,” he said, lounging back, arms tucked behind his head. He grinned at her. “Come here often?”

“...you wish,” she said, in lieu of anything better. Hadn’t he used that line already? “Also, really? A band collar?”

“I’m from Miami,” he said, like that explained anything. “And we’re not playing fancy anymore. I love a bespoke suit as much as the next fashion-conscious person, but it’s a lot of work and we’ve got more important shit to do.”

“Right,” Allura said, a little doubtful. “Have you got any idea how to--”

She cut off as Keith hit the gas. She grabbed for the door handle as he sped out the door to the garage almost before it had even fully opened. They exited into an entirely different part of London than they’d entered from, and Keith zipped through traffic like he’d been born to it.

“He drives like an absolute madman,” Allura muttered. It was not the first time she had thought this. She doubted it would be the last.

“Yeah, well, he’ll get us there, and he has clearance to do this, weirdly enough,” Lance said. He didn’t seem too bothered. “I mean, it’s not like that time he drove us off a cliff.”

“That was _one time_ ,” Keith complained. “And the car flew, so nobody was hurt.”

He swung sharply around a corner, and Allura found Lance pressing against her side as the momentum pushed him against her. Another corner, and she was the one pressing against him.

“Isn’t this going to draw attention?” Lotor asked.

Allura could just barely see Keith’s answering grin in the mirror. He said, “Sure, but not the kind they’ll be on the lookout for. They’ll be expecting us to be following the rules to the letter and _not_ draw attention to ourselves. They’ll dismiss us out of hand.”

“Are you _sure?_ ” Allura asked.

“Mostly, yeah.”

o.o.o.o.o

As soon as the car came to a stop, forty-five minutes outside of London, and three hours from the Blade’s base, Lance was out the door and sprinting.

He faintly heard Lotor ask “Where is he going?” but Lance didn’t actually care that much.

“NYMA!”

The tall woman laughed, braids swinging wildly as he picked her up and spun her in a circle. He strained on his toes to plant a kiss on her cheek, and then hugged her again. “It’s been ages!”

“I know, I know,” she laughed. She ruffled his hair, and he may have leaned into it. “By the way, I’m not the only one excited to--”

“BEEZER!” Lance shouted, and then fell to his knees to catch the dog that ran into his arms, bowling him over. “Who’s a good boy? Who’s a good boy? You arrrrrrrrrrre!”

“Well, you look like you’re having fun.”

Lance craned his head back to look at Keith, smiling widely. “It’s been _years_ , Keith.”

Keith snorted. “Yeah, okay.”

Two pairs of feet joined them, but only Allura knelt down to hesitantly reach out and pet Beezer. The sheepdog wriggled with excitement, practically vibrating out of his skin, and eagerly accepted her hand.

“So,” Lance said, not bothering to sit up. He caught Nyma’s eyes. “Where’s Rolo?”

“He’s got the plane ready,” Nyma said, tucking her hands into her pockets. “We’re good to go when you are.”

“Smugglers?” Lotor guessed.

Nyma shrugged. “Got it in one. We’re technically on Marmora payroll these days, though. We get to run stuff we care about without getting hit by taxes, and in return we just… provide information on the dangerous stuff.”

“Meaning?” Allura asked.

“We run medicines and endangered plants,” Nyma said, her voice dry. “Mostly we just provide a low-cost option where the legal one is too expensive for people, but still necessary. Cancer drugs, AIDS medicine, cucumber trees, that sort of thing. Dendrologists go wild for those, by the way.”

“And then report on the people smuggling bombs and guns and spy tech,” Lance finished. He was still on the ground, and made grabby hands in Nyma’s direction. “Nyma. Nyma. Help me up.”

Nyma snorted, but reached down and took his hand, heaving him to his feet. “Come on, pretty boy. We’ve got a flight to catch.”

“Aw, Nyma, you think I’m pretty?” Lance pressed a hand to his chest and batted his lashes at her. “That just warms the cockles of my heart.”

“Nobody wants to hear about your cockles, Lance.”

“Keith, you’re mean,” Lance said. He looked at Nyma. “Take me away from this awful place.”

“Go get in the plane, Lance,” she told him.

“Nyma, I can feel you laughing at me.”

“That’s nice.”

Lance pouted and bounced back to Allura. He swung an arm around his shoulders. “Understand my woes, por favor.”

“...why?”

“Because they’re woeful woes.”

“Well, I suppose I _did_ get you shot at…”

Nyma snorted at both of them. “Come on. We’re wasting time.”

“Where’re we headed?” Keith asked, falling into step with her. Lotor trailed behind, and Beezer darted around Lance and Allura, trying his best to trip them up.

“Eastern New Jersey, semi-private airfield,” Nyma said. “You’ll have other transportation from there.”

Rolo was waiting in the pilot’s seat, and leaned out to wave at them. He let Nyma give them the safety instructions, including getting Beezer into his flight harness, and then they were off.

Keith slipped into the co-pilot seat, and Lance tried not to laugh at Allura’s wide-eyed expression at the lingering touches.

“What’s wrong?”

Allura shook her head. “I know you said you two had an open relationship, but it’s still a little…”

“Nah, Keith and Rolo flirt, like, a little?” Lance shrugged. “But that’s never going anywhere because of ‘reasons.’”

Allura raised an eyebrow, but Lance couldn’t do much beyond shrug. “I don’t know what happened or why, honestly, I just know that there’s a ‘wall’ and if I ask, Keith just tells me that it’s not his story to tell.”

“I see,” Allura said, a pensive frown crossing her face. “And… you and Nyma.”

Lance snorted. “We went on a date once and she stole my car.”

“She _what_.”

Lance grinned. He glanced at where Nyma had paused in her story to Lotor to stick her tongue out at him. “I got it back! Well, Keith got it back for me. It was kind of embarrassing, but we got over it.”

“She stole your car.”

“Meh,” Lance shrugged. “It wasn’t like she tried to kill me or anything, and she made up for it later.”

Allura’s eyebrows shot up, but she didn’t question it again.

Lance knocked his knee into hers, ignoring the turbulence that hit the relatively small plane. He smiled. “Turn that frown upside down, Princess.”

“I’m not a princess.”

He tilted his head. “Alright then… Sir Gawain. I guess you’re a knight.”

She looked at him, lips pursed, and then smiled and nodded. “That’ll do.”

o.o.o.o.o

They landed in Jersey, everyone except Rolo and Keith having taken naps, and they stumbled out into bright sunlight. Allura blinked against it, and then managed to focus on the man waiting by the SUV on the tarmac.

“Oh my god, Matt,” Lance said. “Is that a fucking leather duster?”

“Dusters are cool,” ‘Matt’ protested, grabbing the lapels in his hands and opening it wide. He spun on the spot and struck a pose. “ _They’re cool.”_

“You look like a try-hard,” Keith said, brushing past and climbing into SUV. “I’m going to sleep. Wake me up when we get there.”

Matt turned to look at Keith, then back at Lance. He jabbed a thumb over his shoulder. “Is he okay?”

“He’s just tired,” Lance said. Allura had the feeling that he would have said more, but Beezer sprinted past and bowled Matt over, so he just ended up laughing instead.

“Nyma! Come get the pupper!” Matt yelled, rolling over and taking Beezer with him.

Nyma jogged over and pulled Beezer off. “You know he loves you.”

“Olia’s gonna be pissed that I got to play with Beezer when she didn’t,” Matt groaned. “Nyma, babe, help me up.”

Allura tilted her head, and looked to Lance. He shrugged. “No, they’re not dating either. Used to, maybe? But that’s like… weird, friendshippy ‘babe.’”

“That’s a thing?” Allura asked.

“We’re a weird group of people,” Lance told her, a cheery grin on his face. “Matt’s part of the weird.”

“I am not!” Matt protested, leaping to his feet and jogging over. “Nyma, help me out. I’m not weird.”

“You’re absolutely absurd,” Nyma told him, still holding Beezer’s collar. Beezer whined. So did Matt.

“Betrayal!” He said, dramatically throwing an arm over his face. After a moment, he dropped it, and spun to face Allura. He held out a hand and gave her a charming smile. “Hey, I’m Matt. It’s nice to see a pretty face that isn’t _stabbing me in the back._ ”

“Weak,” Nyma told him.

“Matt, you have a boyfriend,” Lance added.

Allura didn’t bother to hold back her smile. “You can call me Sir Gawain, and… charmed, I’m sure.”

He pressed a kiss to the back of her hand, bending over nearly in half with a flourish of his arm.

“Hey, hey, where’s _my_ kiss?” Lance demanded. “Or Nyma’s?”

“I’ve met you before,” Matt dismissed as he straightened up. “Also, you were being mean.”

“Holt,” Lotor said, and Matt’s smile fell. He turned slowly to look at Lotor.

“Did Lance mention my full name? Because I’m pretty sure he promised not to.”

Lotor shook his head, and his expression remained pleasant. “Oh no, I’m afraid I have your name from decidedly more mundane channels. We’re going to the Silver Lion, correct?”

Matt stared at him, squinted, and then suddenly smiled. “Oooooh, you’re _that_ Lotor.”

Allura felt her jaw drop. She looked at Matt, then Lotor, then Lance, then Lotor again. She turned to Matt. “You’re not the first person to have that reaction to him.”

“Gawain, please,” Lotor said, his pleasant expression long gone. He sounded a little strangled.

“No, no, this is funny,” Matt said. “Let me guess, one of them got a little long-winded after you asked about the newspaper clippings on the wall?”

Lotor nodded. Allura felt like she had an idea of what was going on, but all of it was so vague that she couldn’t be sure.

“I’m sorry, am I… missing something?” she finally asked.

“My boyfriend’s got a few newspaper clippings of my civilian accomplishments on the wall of the bar that he and his twin brother own,” Matt explained. He grinned again. “And the twin brother sometimes talks about how this _really hot British guy_ in a nice suit sometimes shows up just to flirt with him for a few hours.”

“It’s not just to flirt,” Lotor argued.

Matt grinned. “But it’s definitely a big part of the reason.”

“Well,” Allura said. She considered it for a moment longer. “That would be Ryou, yes?”

“Yep,” Matt confirmed, popping the ‘p.’ “You know the twins too?”

“I’ve never met them, but Lotor mentioned the bar a few times, and they came up in conversation with Keith back in London,” Allura explained. She bit her lip, glancing at Lotor, and then met Matt’s eyes. “So… this Ryou _does_ like him back, yes?”

Matt grinned widely at her.

Lance slipped his arm through hers and headed for the SUV. “So, Mattikins, how long is the drive?”

“About an hour and a half,” Matt said, slipping his hands into the pockets of his duster.

Allura caught Lotor’s eye, and then looked at where Nyma was trying and failing to stifle a laugh.

(Lotor looked blank-faced, sure, but Allura knew how to read him. Conflicted was a good word for it. So was constipated.)

“I think that’s a yes,” Allura offered, rolling on ahead when Lotor shot her an annoyed look. “Goodbye, Nyma! It was nice to meet you!”

“See ya again sometime!” Nyma called, waving goodbye. She turned for the plane. “C’mon, Beezer, we’ve got work to do.”

Lotor fell into step with Allura, but didn’t say anything.

“Keith and Matt both seem to think the feelings on the other side are positive,” Allura told him, her voice quiet.

It was hard to tell, but Allura could see the pout Lotor was wearing, and she counted it as a victory.

o.o.o.o.o

Lance was practically vibrating in his seat by the time they found parking. That may have had something to do with the fact that Matt had stopped for coffee, and Lance’s drink had been made with three _extra_ shots of espresso, because he was proud to say he was That Bitch and also very, very tired.

And now he was wired!

He stilled for a moment when Allura put a hand on his shoulder, and he looked at her.

“You’re disturbing Keith.”

“Can’t stop moving,” Lance told her, and went back to fidgeting and bouncing and humming.

She pulled him to her chest, and whoa, her arms were _way_ stronger than they looked, and started running her fingers through his hair. “Stop moving.”

“Yes’m.”

Matt’s eyes met Lance’s in the rearview mirror, just barely visible, and Lance didn’t need to see the shit-eating grin to know it was there.

(Lotor had been given the passenger seat, and Keith was passed out across the entire back row.)

When Matt finally found parking, Lance was the first out the door, and jogged in place as he waited for everyone else to get out. Keith was the last one, his hair and clothing rumpled from his nap, and there was a dirty look in his eye.

“Stop bouncing,” Keith said.

“Can’t,” Lance told him. “Caffeine. Sleep-deprived. I’m in the magical high-energy place that I thought I lost after college.”

“I hate you,” Keith groaned, pressing his face into Matt’s shoulder. “Make him stop.”

“Nah,” Matt said, tucking his keys into his pocket. “That’s not part of my job description.”

“What is?” Allura asked, once again putting a calming hand on Lance’s shoulder.

“Destroying corporate greed and looking good doing it,” Matt said, tossing her a sparkling grin. He led the way down the street, ambling along, until they reached a bar with ‘The Silver Paladin’ written across the moulding, and decals in both windows. One had a stylized lion head, and the other a large, multicolored V with a strange notch in the center. Matt had to pull out a different set of keys to get them inside, as the bar was clearly not yet open for the day.

“M’Lady,” Matt said, holding open the door for Allura with an exaggerated wiggle of his eyebrows.

She giggled a little as she passed through, and Lance couldn’t help but stick his tongue out at Matt in revenge. Matt snorted, and Keith groaned, which was about what he expected.

As soon as Lance stepped through, a familiar voice met his ears.

“So, we meet again.”

“Pidge, get off the ceiling,” Keith grunted.

“Dude!”

Keith looked up, murder in his eyes. “I’ve had less than two hours of sleep over the past day, and I’ve been shot at for part of that day. I may regularly have worse, but _dammit_ I’m not in the mood.”

“Ugh, fine,” Pidge said, the eyeroll practically audible, and rappelled down from the rafters. She landed next to Lance, and he pulled her into a hug before she even had a chance to detach herself from the ropes. He spun her around, tangling them up further, and she flailed.

“Lance!”

“Pidgeon!”

Pidge finally tore herself away from him, huffy as all get-out. “Lance, I did _not_ sneak you out of the country for a vacation just so you could get mixed up in some international conspiracy.”

“I wasn’t _trying_ to get mixed up in it,” Lance protested. He pointed at Allura. “It was her fault!”

“Hey!” Allura said, sounding offended. “I thought you said you forgave me!”

“Doesn’t mean I forgot,” Lance sniffed, nose in the air.

Pidge looked from one to the other, and then tilted her head. “Huh. Okay. Anyway, do you guys wanna know what’s up with Ozark or not?”

“You calmed down quick,” Keith noted, leaning in close to her.

“Don’t worry about it,” Pidge muttered. She jerked her head towards a door to the back. “Come on, I’ll show you what’s up.”

Lance tapped a finger against his leg, over and over and over again, trying to get rid of the nervous energy that he’d gotten from his drink. In hindsight, a regular latte would have been fine. The extra espresso had probably been waaaaaaay overkill.

“Oh, good, you’re here.”

“Shiro!” Lance said, throwing his arms around the man. Unlike with Nyma and Pidge, he did _not_ attempt to swing him around in a circle. Shiro was far too bulky for that. “Shiro, I got shot at.”

“Yeah, I heard,” Shiro said. He patted Lance on the back, gently urging him to let go so Keith could stumble forward and headbutt Shiro’s chest with a groan, an action that was, to some degree, an approximation of a hug. “Hunk flew up on a red-eye when Keith called it all in.”

Lance felt his eyes get impossibly wider. “Where is he?”

“He’s been stress-baking in the kitchen,” Shiro said. “You know where that is.”

Lance almost went there immediately, but then Shiro saw Lotor and went, “Oh, Keith said you’d be here. Ryou’s probably going to be happy.”

“Oh?” Lotor said, completely failing to sound casual.

Lance fought back a laugh as Shiro smiled. “Oh, yes. He’s actually going to be here in a few minutes, unless you want me to tell him to hurry up. He might, if he knows you’re definitely here.”

It was barely audible, but Lance heard Allura let out a high-pitched noise, little more than a breath. She was looking at Lotor with an expression that was best described as ‘gleeful disbelief,’ in Lance’s opinion. He was pretty sure that it was because Lotor was undeniably blushing.

“I’m fine waiting,” Lotor said.

Allura giggled, hand over her mouth, and Lotor’s face went even redder.

Pidge grabbed Lance’s sleeve and pulled him towards the kitchen. “Come on, time to get the full team. We got shit to do.”

“What kind of shit?” Lance asked, as if he hadn’t been embroiled in said shit for the past day and change.

“We’re taking down Galra Corp,” Pidge said, too low for the rest of the room to hear. “And we’re doing it the Voltron way.”


	3. Let's Get Down to Business

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time to pick up where the law leaves off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: violence

Allura couldn’t help it.

It had been  _ so long _ since she’d seen Lotor blush over something or someone. The second that ‘Ryou’ walked in, Lotor had tried to be smooth, but it was too late. Allura had definitely caught all his tells.

So she maybe squealed, just a tiny bit.

It didn’t take long to find something new to think about, though. Allura had expected the twins to be identical, and the differences in hair length definitely hid it a little, but…

“Let me guess,” Ryou said, leaning against the bar and crossing his arms. He smirked at her, but it was… a little sad. “You’re questioning the chances of us having matching nose scars and amputations by coincidence.”

“I assumed the arms were congenital,” Allura admitted. “But the scars must have been by design to be so similar, yes?”

Ryou looked at Shiro, who shrugged, and then at Keith. “She worth trusting?”

“Well, Lance already put his life in her hands and we all hit up a Marmora base together,” he said. “She’s not exactly a Voltron paladin yet, but… remember Coran? He vouched for her.”

“Speaking of Co--”

Ryou cut Shiro off. “I’m a clone.”

Shiro put his face in his hands, jostling Keith.

(Keith seemed pretty content to just bury his face in Shiro’s shirt and try to pass out again.)

Allura frowned. “That seems… unlikely to actually cause matching injuries, since those aren’t coded in at a genetic level.”

“I’m not going to claim to understand how it happened,” Ryou said. He hopped up onto the bar, elbows locked and legs swinging. “But I was basically designed to replace Shiro and a bunch of other crazy stuff.”

“It was not a fun time,” Shiro told her.

“Eh, kinda fun,” Ryou said. “But annoying. That’s why we left and started up a bar instead.”

“If by annoying you mean ‘nearly got you killed like eight times,’” Keith grumbled.

“Anyway,” Shiro said, passing Keith over to Matt, who laughed at him. “You know Coran?”

“Yes,“ Allura said. She hesitated a moment, but Coran had told her to trust these people, just as he’d told them to trust her. “He’s my godfather, and one of my touchstones in the organization I work for.”

“Yeah,” Shiro said. He bit his lip, nodding and clearly thinking something over, and then said, “He’s downstairs.”

Allura blinked.

“ _ What. _ ”

“He beat you here by about three hours,” Ryou said, crossing his ankles and not meeting her eyes. He hopped to his feet and headed for the door that Lance and Pidge had disappeared through earlier. “This way,  _ if you dare _ .”

“You’re being a dork,” Keith complained, though he let Matt pull him along after the rest of them. “Lotor, why do you like him?”

“Why do you like Lance?” Ryou shot back, before Lotor could say anything.

“He’s a good lay,” Keith said, voice drier than dust.

“...that’s fair,” Ryou said, traipsing down the stairs to the basement. “Still, we’ve got shit to do. Welcome…”

He opened the door. “To Voltron.”

Silence reigned for a long moment.

“You’re a dork,” Pidge told him. She looked up from where she’d been bent over a computer screen with the man that Allura assumed was Hunk, Lance on her other side, and wrinkled her nose. “I didn’t even hear half of that and I know that you were being an overdramatic dork.”

“She’s right,” Matt said, sweeping past to throw himself onto a barstool next to Lance, spinning around twice before he steadied himself and leaned in. “So, schematics?”

“Yeah,” Pidge said. “We’re looking at the Galra Corp. headquarters.”

Allura lost interest at that point, because the point in question was utterly derailed by Coran standing up from the couch and walking towards them.

“What the  _ quiznak _ ,” Allura demanded. “Coran, what are you doing here? How do you know these people? Who are they?”

“Already forgetting our names, Princess?” Lance teased.

“I have a lot of free time,” Coran said, as if that was really an answer. “Or rather, I used to. Then I became Merlin and had to find someone to take over and just keep an eye on operations.”

“They’re really cool operations,” Lance told her.

“That still doesn’t explain what this is,” Allura said, and she couldn’t quite disguise the note of hurt in her voice.

Coran smiled at her, almost pitying, and reached out. Allura gladly let him pull her into a hug, and rested her head on his shoulder.

“I didn’t always work for Kingsman,” Coran said, rubbing her back. “I wasn’t always on the right side of the law, either, because the law wasn’t always on the side of the people who needed it.”

Allura pulled away from the hug, frowning. “So…”

“Voltron was… a pipe dream, I’d say,” Coran mused. “Once. My grandfather, oh, he ran a similar group long before any of you were even a twinkle in your mothers’ eyes, but my mother had no interest and I almost didn’t, with the way that technology had advanced.”

“That still doesn’t quite tell us what Voltron  _ is _ ,” Lotor said.

“We pick up where the law leaves off,” Pidge said. “These days, Matt and I do a lot of the heavy lifting, and most of the tech work, and the twins play into it, but we’ve all played our parts.”

“I’m on too many watchlists these days,” Lance admitted. “And Hunk wanted to retire a bit.”

“Keith spends half his time on loan to the Blade,” Ryou said.

“We run cons,” Matt said, probably taking pity on Lotor and Allura’s continued confusion with the vague phrasing. “There are a lot of situations where the law either can’t or won’t help people who were hurt. When a big corporation tries to run over the little guy, we’re there to get… revenge and compensation, usually.”

“Remember the big thing with Sendak Ltd. a few years ago?” Pidge asked. “That was us.”

“That one was a bitch to run,” Ryou mused. “Fun, though.”

Allura bit her lip, looking around. Her eyes landed on Lance. “I thought you said you were CIA.”

“I was,” Lance said. “And before that, I was Voltron. Joining the CIA was… part of a plea bargain.”

“TBH,” Pidge said, smirking when Hunk groaned.

Allura shook her head and turned to Coran again. “You never told me about any of this.”

“I wanted to protect you, at first, and then…” he shrugged, and put his hands on Allura’s shoulders. “You’re very good at what you do, Allura, but until Kingsman, what you did wasn’t even  _ near  _ the same thing as Voltron. You needed training, and you were always more comfortable with the legal side of my activities. The stories of how each of them joined aren’t necessarily pretty.”

She bit her lip, and then sighed and nodded. “I’ll take your word for it that you were trying to protect me. But for now… what are we doing?”

Coran smiled at her, and then turned to the table at the center of the room. “Holts, you’re up!”

Pidge tapped a few buttons and brought up a hologram of a large invitation. “ _ This _ is an invitation to a supposed charity ball that Galra Corp. is hosting in a week and a half. High-profile, lots of partner companies’ CEOs, lots of high-level Galra employees, lots of local politicians. It’s  _ big _ , it’s  _ classy _ , and it’s  _ absolutely  _ a front.”

“They’re drug-running,” Lotor suggested.

“Got it in one,” Matt said. “That’s your dad’s company, right?”

“Unfortunately,” Lotor said, lip curling.

“Well, we’re taking it down,” Pidge said. “It’s bigger than what we usually go after, but we can do it.”

“I mean, we stole a whole country once,” Matt said. “A small one, but we did it. Balmera even  _ thanked _ us for it.”

“So we’ve done bigger, but not much,” Ryou said. “Anyway, ball?”

“If we bust them for the drug-running, we can kickstart the investigations for the legally grey stuff on the experimentation front,” Pidge said. “‘Hey look, there’s heroin in their business’ leads to ‘hey look, this bitch is cloning people.’”

“ _ Also _ your family, if I’m not mistaken,” Matt said, pointing at Lotor again.

“My mother has very little regard for what most people consider crimes against nature,” Lotor said drily.

“Speaking as one of said crimes?” Ryou said. “Can confirm.”

Lotor looked at him, mouth open just slightly and horror on his face. Allura felt a pang of awkward sympathy, but couldn’t think of anything she could do to help.

“Oh relax, it’s not like you knew,” Ryou said, waving Lotor’s clear concern off. “It’s why we had Pidge run a background check, since I thought you looked way familiar for some reason, but you’re not your mom.”

“Or he’d be  _ much _ less interested in you,” Shiro said, getting elbowed in the ribs for his troubles. He kept his grin, though.

“ _ Anyway _ ,” Pidge said. “The ball is being held in a hotel three blocks down from corporate headquarters. Security won’t be any more lax than usual at their HQ, but there’s going to be a  _ lot  _ of journalists over at the ball, and we can weaken security by distracting them.”

“Basically,” Matt said. “We expose the drugs at the ball, which distracts security enough for us to sneak into corporate hq.”

“And why is it so important for us to sneak in?” Lotor asked.

“Oh, right,” Matt said. He blinked. “That’s where Ozark is.”

“...he’s just locked up in a corporate building, not a cell or a warehouse or something?” Allura asked.

“Haggar has a  _ lot _ of beds with restraints,” Shiro said. “But I think he might be bait for the two of you, actually.”

Allura looked at Lotor, and Lotor looked back, and then they both stepped forward and took seats at the table.

“Walk us through it,” Allura asked.

o.o.o.o.o

Having Allura around was nice, for a lot of reasons, but a big one on the  _ professional  _ front was that they no longer had to rely on Pidge to play any role that needed a woman.

Pidge wasn’t exactly a good grifter in the first place. Voltron had been focused on hitter-and-hacker-heavy cons since Lance had left, because Matt wasn’t always available and Hunk had gone to Miami with Lance. The twins weren’t bad grifters, but they had very distinctive appearances that made it hard to run certain types of cons, and Keith was a good thief and a good hitter, but a shitty grifter, and was off on Blade missions as often as not. Lance had always been their best grifter, and he’d been plucked up by the CIA and then dropped like a hot potato and too burned to help more than once in a while anymore.

So yeah, Allura and Lotor weren’t quite a godsend, but they were nice to have around. Lance was pretty sure that Allura was good people, too, even if Lotor was a little…

(Well, he’d let Ryou handle most of the Lotor stuff.)

Lotor and Allura’s faces were known, both as enemies and as celebrities in their own right.

So they’d just walked in the front door.

The rest of the team had a slightly harder time of it.

Nobody had any way of knowing whether Galra Corp. had caught what Lance and Keith looked like, from the fights or traffic cameras or any number of little things.

So they headed for the roof of Galra Corp. Headquarters, eighty-three full stories above the city streets.

“I haven’t done this in a while,” Keith admitted, pulling his hair back in a tie. “You?”

“I’ve been doing a lot of security consulting in Miami, so a bit,” Lance said. He pulled on a black beanie and a pair of leather gloves. “What were you doing for Kolivan, then?”

“FIghting, mostly,” Keith said. He strapped away several knives, and Lance maybe got a little distracted by the sight of them.

Just a little.

Just a tiny reminder of the last time they’d done knifeplay and--

_ Anyway. _

“A bit of negotiation,” Keith said, ignoring Lance’s jerk of distraction. He looked out across the city from his seat atop the massive, boxy metal tube he’d perched himself on. “I think Kolivan’s trying to get me trained up for something new soon.”

“Any idea what?” Lance asked. He eyed the tube. It was probably some kind of central air conditioning shaft, but the chances that there was an exit anywhere useful were relatively low. All the shafts to useful rooms would be too small to crawl through, except maybe the central factory floor, which somehow managed to exist on floors three through seven.

“Not really,” Keith admitted. “There’s some stuff I’ve heard about open positions, but nothing that seems to fit.”

“Makes sense,” Lance said. He pulled a small, rattling box out of his pocket and proffered it. “Mint?”

Keith shook his head. “No thanks. By the way…”

“No.”

“I didn’t even finish my sentence.”

“Yeah, but I know that tone,” Lance accused, poking Keith in the chest. “That’s not a fun tone.”

“It is.”

“It’s  _ not _ ,” Lance insisted. “Not for me.”

“I just wanted to ask about Allura,” Keith said.

“Is now seriously the time?” Lance complained.

“You like her,” Keith said, completely ignoring the whine. “And Nyma and Ryou  _ both _ said they could tell she liked you back.”

“You’re taking their advice?”

“Well, it’s not like I trust my  _ own _ reading of her body language,” Keith said. “Just yours, and that’s because we’ve known each other for, uh, ever.”

“Ten years isn’t forever.”

“It’s still a lot and do you  _ seriously _ not trust me with knowing you like someone?” Keith asked. “Hunk said it too.”

“Hunk needed to be argued into getting involved here at all,” Lance said. “And even then, he’s barely talking.”

“You sound bitter.”

“I’m not  _ bitter _ , just… I wish he hadn’t been right about London being a bad idea,” Lance said.

“Did he say ‘I told you so,’?” Keith asked.

“Not in as many words,” Lance mumbled. “Or any words. He’s not giving me the silent treatment or anything, but I think he’s upset by what happened.”

“Anyone would be upset, Lance, you almost  _ died. _ ” Keith paused, considering. “ _ Again _ .”

“I’ve almost died a lot of times, Keith.”

“That’s not the point and you know it,” Keith said. “Or, well, it is, but--anyway, you still haven’t answered me about Allura.”

“Listen, why is it so important to you if I like her? Yes, she’s pretty, and clever, and saved my life, and she could kick my ass, probably.”

“So are you going to tell her?”

“I’m not fifteen anymore.”

“No, you’re a grown man who should have the guts to tell a woman you’re interested in her,” Keith said flatly.

“She knows about you and me,” Lance pointed out. “What are the chances she’ll be okay with polyamory?”

Keith’s eyebrows slid upwards. “ _ That’s _ what’s stopping you?”

“Also, what if she’s supposed to marry other nobility or really rich people or something?” Lance asked, gesturing wildly into the night. “Like, she mentioned dating Lotor, and  _ his  _ dad is CEO of a company that owns almost this entire building! And  _ it’s a big fucking building!” _

“Keep your voice down,” Keith hissed. “The wind is blocking off a lot of noise but it’s not blocking off  _ everything _ .”

Lance gave him the dirtiest look he could muster.

“Besides, isn’t the British Royal Family marrying civilians from other countries that have zero noble background or something?” Keith asked. “And like… she doesn’t seem like she’d care about that sort of thing in the first place.”

“Poly, though,” Lance said. He grabbed the earpieces that Pidge had provided, and put it in. “Pidgeon, you there?”

_ “I’ve been here for fifteen minutes _ ,” she said. “ _ Your love lives are dumb.” _

“Pidge!” Lance yelped.

Keith laughed, the bastard.

“ _ Also, Hunk says he’s not mad at you or anything, he’s just trying not to crowd you too much like he did after Venice _ ,” Pidge said.

“ _ I could have told him that myself _ ,” Hunk pointed out, sounding annoyed and not a little embarrassed.

“ _ Too bad, shoulda been faster _ ,” Pidge said. “ _ Also, Coran just texted me and said that Allura tends to be open-minded and willing to try new things, even if he doesn’t know how much that would apply to her romantic life, but that he likes and trusts you and you have his blessing.” _

“Oh my god,” Lance groaned, leaning forward and burying his face in his hands. “I hate you all.”

“ _ Get the royal booty, Lance,” _ Pidge told him. “ _ Also, I’ll have the systems looping in thirty seconds. You good to go?” _

Lance clipped a rope to his belt, and Keith did the same, both of them heading for the openings they’d made in preparation for Pidge.

“Ready?” Lance asked, grinning.

“Always,” Keith answered, grinning back.

“ _ And… now!” _

They jumped.

o.o.o.o.o

There was something comfortable about being on Lotor’s arm. They were never really going to work out as a romantic couple, but Allura had imagined, on more than one occasion, that they would have made a  _ marvelous _ political marriage had they been born in a different century. They worked well as friends and they worked well on business, and even if they quickly lost their passion for each other, they didn’t quite lose their ability to tease and flirt well enough to fool the odd stranger.

“Your father keeps looking over at us,” Allura said quietly, her face close enough to Lotor’s ear as they danced that she hardly needed to speak at all.

He dipped her, and when she came back up, he was clearly annoyed. She doubted anyone else would be able to see it, but she knew him better than that. “He’s planning something.”

“So are we,” she reminded him, tossing in a coy smile that would help dissuade at least a few of the less criminal attendants from suspecting them of anything more questionable than wanting to find a secluded corner for some fun later in the night. “And I happen to think our plan is rather good.”

“But is it  _ enough?” _ Lotor asked.

“You’re being too pessimistic.”

“You’re being too  _ optimistic _ .”

They came to a stop with the end of the song, and Allura let herself be led over to a table so she could take a seat.

(Lotor knew she hated heels, and for that, she was grateful.)

“Cheese?”

Allura looked up at the familiar voice, and met Matt’s eyes as he leaned over with what was absolutely a plate of fancy cheese and deli meats. He was dressed in a simple suit, the same thing as all the other servers, and it was just ill-fitting enough that Allura figured it had been stolen off an  _ actual _ employee.

He held the plate low to the table for her to peruse, and Allura felt something drop into her lap. She quickly folded the fabric of her skirts over it, and pretended to take interest in the food.

Oooooh, ricotta.

Lotor grabbed a slice of prosciutto on a toothpick, and Matt gave them both a smile and drifted over to a table full of politicians.

Allura waited a few moments, and then let herself list to the side, leaning fully against Lotor’s shoulder like she was young and tired and a little bit in love.

(She’d done this a lot, once upon a time.)

She unfolded the paper, took a moment to understand the simple cypher, and then felt her heart drop.

**_We were wrong. It’s not heroin. It’s C4._ ** ****__  
**_The storage rooms just off the basement kitchens are stuffed full of it._ ** ****__  
**_There’s enough to bring down the entire building and probably a few dozen meters out, too._ ** **_  
_ ** ****_Shiro and Coran are working on a plan, so be ready._

Bombs.

They were sitting on  _ bombs _ .

“I don’t know why I’m surprised,” Lotor muttered. He proceeded to rip the paper to small shreds, dropped the little pile into his mashed potatoes, and ate it.

“Ugh,” Allura couldn’t help but say.

“It was rice paper,” Lotor told her, just a little disapproving.

“I know, but still,” she muttered. She kept her leg from jiggling with the sudden onslaught of nerves, but it wasn’t necessarily easy.

“We could take another turn around the dance floor,” Lotor suggested. His eyes roamed the ballroom. “This changes things. We need a better idea of who’s here, and why.”

“Why your parents would want to kill them?” Allura asked, a little sarcastic and a little resigned.

“Or how they’re getting out in time to avoid the fallout,” Lotor said quietly. “If we’re very lucky, then the bombs aren’t actually meant to go off tonight, and we have time.”

“When have we ever been that lucky?” Allura asked.

He shrugged, but didn’t correct her.

Hunk was in the kitchens, and Matt was doing rounds as a server, and Allura had to trust that those two would handle it. She and Lotor just had to keep attention on themselves, and so they got up, and they danced.

The turned across the floor, Allura’s skirts almost floating with her movements, and it was like a fairy tale.

Then a heavy hand landed on her shoulder, and Lotor went stiff. His eyes were filled with rage, subtle to the world but obvious to her, and when she heard the voice behind her, Allura understood  _ exactly _ why.

“Hello, Duchess Allura,” Zarkon said. “I think it’s time you and I had a little chat. Lotor is… welcome to come along.”

It wasn’t a suggestion.

Allura caught Matt’s eyes as she and Lotor left the room, and he disappeared in the direction of the kitchens.

She thought about the knives in her heels, and the gun on her thigh, and the taser under her bust.

There were stab-worthy pins in her hair and poison in her earrings and electricity in her sash.

A few hallways later, the door shut behind them, trapped with Zarkon and a sizeable group of minions. One went to handcuff her.

He did not succeed.

Allura and Lotor sprang into action.

o.o.o.o.o

“I love elevator shafts,” Lance said, words slightly slurred around the pocket flashlight he had held between his teeth.

He was hanging upside down in the middle of one of said shafts, carefully not touching the door or the walls, just lightly swaying back and forth as he fiddled with the emergency exit controls. He finally managed to pop open the box without raising the alarm, and then he clipped in his phone, with all of Pidge’s pretty little programs, and let it set to work.

The Galra Corporation was, for whatever reason, very concerned about people exiting their elevator shafts without permission. Given that Lance was currently doing just that, the paranoia was probably a little justified.

“ _ Same _ ,” Pidge sighed. “ _ Keith, how you holding up?” _

“ **_I think Lance got the better end of the deal,”_ ** Keith grunted. There was a faint banging noise.  **_“Also, I hate ventilation shafts.”_ **

“I thought you said that one was big enough,” Lance said. “Hey Pidge, I think it’s ready for you.”

_ “On it _ ,” Pidge said, and the final few programs started running.

**_“It smells,”_ ** Keith grunted.  **_“Like formaldehyde. I hate it. This stuff sticks in my hair.”_ **

“I thought you didn’t care about your hair that much,” Lance said.

**_“I care about_ ** **smelling like formaldehyde** **_, Lance,”_ ** Keith practically hissed.

“That’s fair,” Lance accepted. The device beeped and the doors slid open. He swung through and landed lightly on his feet. “Thanks, Pidgeon.”

_ “Go do your job, Lance,”  _ she told him.

“Yes, ma’am,” he sighed. He set off at a trot down the hall, footsteps light and almost soundless.

After that, he kept his voice soundless too.

Pidger kept up a running commentary on the events of the charity ball, the guard patrols, any information that came to light. She maybe also poked fun at Lance’s sneakiness, but that wasn’t really anything new.

“ _ Lance, you’ve got guards coming in around the corner, _ ” Pidge told him. “ _ Keith, how you doin’?” _

**_“I’ve got ‘Truck Yeah’ stuck in my head, which has nothing to do with the mission but is very annoying,”_ ** Keith said.

Lance very carefully clung to a corner of the ceiling and tried not to laugh. Giving away his position because Keith was making dumb jokes would be a terrible way to ruin the mission. Again.

“ _ Hold up, Matt’s calling me. You two can take care of yourselves for a few minutes, yeah?” _

**_“That didn’t sound like a question._ ** ”

Pidge snorted. “ _ I’m  _ on the phone, _ Keith _ .”

Lance slid to the ground as the security guard’s footsteps faded, and breathed out as quietly as he could.

Of course, someone had to ruin all his game. Specifically, that someone was Pidge. More specifically, she yelled in his ear.

_ “FUCK!” _

Lance tripped.

He heard the footsteps from before, and quickly scrambled up to the top of--was this a vending machine? Okay. To the top of a series of vending machines, lying on his back and hoping like hell that nobody would see him somehow.

There was a film of dust over the tops of the machines, and the way he’d gotten up had disturbed it. Some of it came away on his clothing, sticking to the fabric like a million tiny burrs. Some of it flew up into the air, and entered his nose.

Lance tried to stifle the sneeze, he really did.

“AH-CHOO!”

He did not succeed.

Lance stayed frozen for a moment, a wordless horror suffusing his frame, and then he rolled off the vending machines and fell to the ground, barely dodging the tazer that had been aimed and shot in his direction.

He surged to his feet as quickly as he could, ignoring Pidge’s panicked yelling and the way Keith was hissing in his ear. He deflected a punch, took another to the shoulder, and then managed to get in a hit himself. The security guard reeled back, clutching at her now-broken nose, and Lance ran forward to grab her in a chokehold.

She kicked his legs out from under him, because of  _ course _ she did.

“Fucking  _ hell _ ,” Lance cursed, lashing out with his legs in turn. He got up and ran at her, and immediately got kicked back into a vending machine. The plastic screen of machine shattered against his back, and he hissed as one of the coils of wire dug into his spine. He reached up and back and grabbed the first thing he could, and threw it at the guard’s face.

She actually paused to gape at him. “Did you just throw a pack of oreos at me?”

Lance threw another snack at her head instead of answering, and then ran at her, shoulder-first, picking her up and continuing towards the wall. Her hands, fisted together, came down on his spine, once-twice-and-again. He slammed her into the wall, shoulder digging into her sternum, and stole her tazer in the process.

He tazed her, mind running through options, and then hissed as she bit him.

“What the  _ fuck?” _ He demanded.

She grinned at him, sharp and wicked and stained with her own blood, and--

“Wait, wait, wait,  _ Ezor?”  _ He asked, mouth agape.

Pidge yelped in his ear.

The security guard tilted her head. “Uh… do I know you?”

“You’re friends with Acxa, yeah?” Lance asked. He shifted his weight, still thinking. “Or, shit, wait, dating? I think?”

“...and how do you know Acxa?” Ezor asked. She shifted her weight in turn.

“Uhhhhhhhh I’m friends with her brother?” Lance said. Maybe he could get out of this without getting punched again.

“The mullet?”

“THANK YOU,” Lance blurted out. “He keeps insisting that it’s not a mullet and it really, really is.”

“ **_Lance, are you_ ** **fucking** **_kidding me right now?”_ ** Keith demanded.

_ “Oh my god, both of you shut up,” _ Pidge hissed.  _ “I’ve got news and you are going to  _ listen to me _.” _

Lance made a face, and Ezor’s brow ticked up.

Lance gave her a wide smile.

“Give me one good reason not to kick your ass and call in the intrusion,” she said. “And tell me how you recognized me, because being a friend of my girlfriend’s brother isn’t exactly a lot to go off of.”

“I saw your group pictures on the mantle at the Kogane house,” Lance said. “And Keith shows me pictures sometimes when Acxa decides to send him a video of how annoyed she is that he’s in the hospital again.”

_ “The basement of the hotel that the ball is being held at is stuffed full of bombs _ ,” Pidge interrupted. Lance felt the blood drain from his face.  _ “The entire thing is set up to take down the building and at least a few dozen yards around it, maybe more.” _

“Ooooh, did your little friends scare you?” Ezor asked, cooing and leaning forward. “Did  _ I  _ scare you?”

“Would you let me go if I said I was trying to keep your boss from killing hundreds of people?” Lance asked.

“Hm…” Ezor tilted her head, considering. She shrugged. “Pass.”

_ “What? _ ” Pidge demanded. Lance echoed her.

Ezor snorted. “Uh, do those people mean anything to me? No. No, they don’t.”

“You’re telling me that you don’t know a single person that might be working there tonight? No fellow guards, or anything?” Lance tried to wheedle. “Or, part of the serving staff? Coworkers? Come on, you have to have  _ some _ friends.”

“Yawn,” Ezor said.

_ “Did she just  _ say _ ‘yawn’ in response to hundreds of people possibly dying?” _ Pidge demanded.

**_“Yeah, she’s like that,”_ ** Keith said. He sounded distracted.

“Listen, I’m here for a paycheck, and like… I don’t actually have  _ proof _ , you know?” Ezor shrugged, vaguely careless. “Okay, so you know my name and a few random things about my girlfriend’s family. Big fuckin’ whoop. Why should I believe you that my boss is trying to kill hundreds of people, like, three blocks away?”

“Um,” Lance said, because that was actually a fair point. “Fuck.”

“Yeah,” Ezor said, grinning wide. Her teeth glinted in the light, still pink from the blood that had dripped down from her nose. “I don’t know you, so here are your options: I can call my coworkers and get some people in, call the police, and you can go spend some time in jail, pay out bail, do whatever,  _ or _ I can kick your ass and  _ then _ do the rest.”

“That sounds really unpleasant for me,” Lance said. “Like, really unpleasant. Can you maybe--”

_ ~ _ _ ♫~ _ _ We’re the kids your mama warned ya ‘bout, we’re the kids your mama warned ya ‘bout, drive hard, roll ti~ _ _ ♫~ _

The song cut off as Ezor pulled out her phone and brought it to her ear. “Uh, I’m busy working and--no, you didn’t tell me you were working tonight, too! Why are you calling me if you’re at work?!”

Ezor’s mouth fell open, and then snapped shut as she peered at Lance. He gave her a nervous grin, once again trying to figure out the best way to leave the situation without getting his ass kicked.

“Zethrid’s  _ what?!” _

And now she was angry as hell.

“Yeah, okay.  _ Okay _ . God, Acxa, I didn’t think he was telling the  _ truth _ , and you know my sche--yeah, okay, bye.”

Ezor brought her phone down, swiping the End Call button with a little more force than necessary.

“Fine,” she huffed, clearly pouting. The blood and clearly broken nose made it less cute than it might have been. “ _ Apparently _ , you were telling the truth.”

Lance blinked at her and forced himself to not relax. “So… you’re on our side?”

“Um, duh?” Ezor snorted.

**_“We’re in the clear,”_ ** Keith confirmed.

Lance brought a hand up to his ear and hissed. “Dude, what the fuck did you do?”

**_“I called my sister,”_ ** Keith said.  **_“And she called Ezor. And she’s probably calling Zethrid right now, since Zethrid is_ ** **apparently** **_working at the hotel tonight, so Acxa’s actually worried for once.”_ **

Lance considered that, and then shrugged. He held out a hand to Ezor. “Welcome to the team, I guess? Listen, can you get me to…”

_ “Room 519K, 14th floor,” _ Pidge told him.

Lance reported the numbers, and Ezor nodded slowly, an unhappy curl to her lip.

“I am  _ so _ getting fired for this…”

o.o.o.o.o

Allura sprinted forward, one foot landing on a chair, and backflipped onto the shoulders of the guard that had been holding her wrists together. She pulled the sash from her waist and wrapped it around his neck, shocking him enough to knock him out and jumping to her feet before he even hit the ground. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Lotor pulling his sword (where’d he hidden that?), and attacking Zarkon directly.

She left him to it.

Allura ripped off her skirt and threw it into the faces of the group of guards nearest to her, then sprang at one of the guards that hadn’t yet managed to wrestle his gun free of his holster. She ducked a punch, landed one on his face, and then moved behind him and started pushing him towards the woman who had started shooting. Allura pulled the pistol from her calf and brought it up to shoot from under her human shield’s arm, landing a trio of ‘stun’ shots before she could shove her captive forward and smash his forehead into the woman’s.

She ducked down to avoid a swiping knife from behind, and then rolled into the motion and kicked out, up and back, with both legs. They connected, and as she got to her feet and spun, she saw that she’d managed to kick one opponent into the one behind him.

She trapped the thrusting knife of a attacking woman in her sash. Allura swept the sash down and around, yanking the woman into an impromptu flip that ended with her landing facedown on the floor and groaning. Allura shot her with a stun dart for good measure, and then immediately leaned backwards to avoid a handful of gunshots. She stood up again, feeling the adrenaline in her veins only climbing higher, and snapped her sash out to a more rigid form.

With her sash now forming a shield, Allura rushed the last guard, pushing him into the wall, and then relaxed her sash, letting it turn back into a strip of fabric, and used it to shock him to unconsciousness. She turned and surveyed the room, still tense and ready for a fight, but nobody was attacking.

The vast majority of the room’s occupants were unconscious or faintly groaning. Lotor stood against a wall, hand clutched to his side, and Allura could see the blood even from the other side of the room. She strode over, reaching down and pulling a small, translucent grey cube from the holster at her hip.

Allura stopped just in front of him, and held the cube out.

“I hate my father,” Lotor groaned.

“He got away,” Allura surmised. She certainly hadn’t seen him among the bodies littered across the room. She moved her hand, just enough to grab some attention. “Come on.”

“What is it?” Lotor asked, eyeing it with suspicion.

“Some medical device from Keith’s side,” Allura said. “It’ll keep the wound in stasis until you can get actual medical attention.”

“Nanites?” Lotor asked, lip curling in distaste.

“I think so,” Allura said. “Come on, Lotor, you know it’s good for you.”

“You sound like you did when I had the flu,” Lotor grumbled.

“I know,” Allura said, smiling despite the situation. “You really should have gotten the flu shot.”

Lotor made a face and just leaned back, letting her press the cube to his side.

Allura watched, just for a few moments, as the cube seemed to melt and spread and  _ seep _ into the wound. It turned translucent, and seemed to hold fast and bend with Lotor’s breathing after a few moments, and Allura could tell that he was relaxing, if only a little.

“Better?”

“Surprisingly, yes,” Lotor said. He levered himself to his feet, eyes scrunched up in pain.

“Maybe we--”

The door slammed open.

Allura had her gun up and aimed before she’d even thought it through, but the woman in the doorway didn’t attack.

“Hello, Zethrid,” Lotor said. He sounded very tired.

“Uh…” Zethrid said, clearly busy taking in the room. “Acxa said something about a bomb?”

“The hotel is stuffed with C4,” Lotor said. “There’s a team working on that. Help us with the other problem?”

“What’s the other problem?” Zethrid asked.

“My father.”

Zethrid squinted, looking from Lotor to Allura and back. She shrugged. “At this point I’m just doing whatever Acxa says is a good idea, so... I guess, yeah. She said we’re working for you again. Do I get to punch something?”

“You do,” Lotor said. “I don’t suppose there’s a secret way from here to the Galra Corp. building?”

“You don’t know?” Zethrid asked.

“They’re always doing construction without heeding zoning laws,” Lotor said flatly. “It’s been a few years since I checked.”

Zethrid turned to look at Allura, brow furrowed.

Allura smiled brightly, well aware that she wasn’t hiding her nervousness as well as she hoped.

“Isn’t that your ex?”

“Focus, Zethrid,” Lotor said. “What’s the fastest way my father could have gotten out of here?”

Zethrid shifted her weight from one leg to the other, and then headed for a door in the corner. “Your mom showed me this. Follow me.”

o.o.o.o.o

“Ooooh my gosh, it’s got multiple locks,” Lance cooed. “Pidge, Pidge, you do the techy ones and I’ll do the dial.”

_ “Please tell my you’re joking _ ,” Pidge said.

“Nope!” Lance laughed. “There’s a combination lock. It looks really quiet. Let’s face it, Pidgeon, you’d be done for if you were here and only ready for the techy locks.”

_ “Do your job and let me do mine, _ ” Pidge grumbled.

“You guys really like bickering,” Ezor, said, arms crossed as she leaned against the wall. “You sure this is the right room?”

“Pidge said it is, so it probably is,” Lance said. He dug into his back and dug out a stethoscope.

“You just carry one of those around with you?” Ezor asked.

“Honestly, I’m faster at this than I am at brute-forcing it,” Lance admitted. “And it’s more subtle. Now please stay quiet, so I can get this done.”

“Sure thing, dude,” Ezor sighed. She bit her lip and looked away, leg jittering nervously.

“Stop bouncing,” Lance said, closing his eyes and putting the stethoscope to the wall.

Lance was… okay, Lance was  _ really _ good at this part. Keith was better at the fiddly lockpicking, but safecracking was an  _ art _ and Lance was  _ good _ at it. It was about being slow and gentle and waiting for just the right moment, and Lance wasn’t always good at patience in his life, but he could wait forever on the job if he had to. Whether it was waiting for the right shot, waiting for the click of a lock, or waiting for a mark to take the bait, he could do it.

Even Pidge didn’t dare interrupt him, now. She wouldn’t, unless it was an emergency.

The only noise that crossed into his hearing was Ezor’s breathing and the beeping as Pidge’s programs finished with the electronic lock above his head.

With a final  _ click _ , Lance smiled, stood, and grabbed the door handle.

It swung open.

He shot Ezor a grin, but she just rolled her eyes.

“Oh, come on, admit it. That was impressive.”

“Sure, kid.”

_ “Oh my god, Lance.” _

He laughed and grabbed his phone, detaching it from the electronic lock.

Lance strode into the room, still grinning.

Lance stopped, no longer grinning.

“Uh, Pidge? Do you know what was going on in this room?”

_ “It was one of those rooms that was just blocked off at random, _ ” Pidge said.  _ “Uh… minimal information in and out, but rumors suggested that it was central to some really ugly stuff, and basically exactly the kind of information we need if we want to take Galra Corp. down _ .”

“Yeah, uh…” Lance lifted his phone and took a picture of the room, immediately sending it to Pidge. “This is creepy as fuck, for the record.”

Pidge was silent for a few moments, keys clacking away faintly through the headset.

_ “Uh… fuck.  _ Fuck _. Lance, I need you to-- No, Ryou,  _ stop! _ Lance, I need you to head for that computer in the corner. You know the USB I gave you? Just plug it in and step back, wait for instructions _ .”

“Pidge, there are  _ broken, human-sized test tubes _ in here,” Lance hissed. He glanced back at Ezor, but she was just wrinkling her nose at everything. “What’s going on?”

_ “Ryou recognizes it _ ,” Pidge said. She sounded distracted.  _ “Get the USB in and boot up the computer, I’ll tell you when to go. Ryou,  _ stop _ , what do you even… _ ”

Lance fumbled with the USB, cursing under his breath. “Pidge, c’mon, talk to me.”

_ “I’ll get back to you,” _ Pidge said.  _ “Keith ran into his sister and needs some management.” _

“Pidge, I--Pidge!” Lance yelled, but she’d already switched channels.  _ Fuck _ .

“This place is creepy,” Ezor said. “I mean, you already said that, but, like, for the record or whatever? I agree.”

“Ryou, Ryou, Ryou…” Lance muttered. Ryou recognized it. Human-sized test tubes. “It’s a cloning facility. Or at least a cloning room?”

Ezor met his eyes as he looked up. She blinked. “You sure?”

“It’s gotta be,” Lance said, breathing out slowly. “It’s… holy shit, this is  _ so _ illegal.”

“Doesn’t look like they were using it,” Ezor pointed out. She nudged a box with her foot. “I mean, it’s  _ clean _ , and I’m seeing Petri dishes in that weird closet thing, but I don’t think those tubes have been used in a while.”

“They haven’t.”

Lance spun around, already reaching for his gun, but froze when he saw that there were already at least five aimed at him.

“Oh, shit,” Ezor said, watching the lady in the doorway with wide eyes. “Ms. Haggar. Hey! Um… nice night, right?”

The woman glared.

“I’m fired, huh?”

“You’ll be lucky if you aren’t dead at the end of the night,” Haggar hissed. “Cuff them!”

Lance tensed, stumbling back as the strange, willowy guards at the woman’s sides came forward towards him and Ezor.

He tripped over a box, because of course he did, hand punching through the computer monitor as he flailed on his way down.

“Idiot!” Haggar snapped, and the guards pulled at Lance’s arms with a surprising amount of strength. He let out a cry of pain, but didn’t struggle.

Ezor held her hands up in the air and let them cuff her without a problem.

“I hope you’ve got a plan, kid,” she said, eyebrow raised.

Lance grimaced. “I’m supposed to be on vacation. None of this was in the plan.”

“Gross.”

(Lance really hoped that he was the only one that had noticed Ezor slip the USB into her shoe while everyone was watching him smash things ‘by accident.’)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The true irony of this fic is that, despite writing the majority of this fic before seeing S6, Lance is somehow his DnD-sona, plus grifting and minus puppy ears.


	4. Night-Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's always _so_ satisfying to see the death of an amoral megacorp.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alternatively known as: God I hope there aren't any plot holes that I forgot to fill.
> 
> Warnings: Violent Interrogation (I'm not sure if it counts as torture, but it's the reason for that tag), more violence

Allura and Lotor had long since put their earbuds in, but they hadn’t actually heard anything.

_ “So Lance got caught _ ,” Pidge said.

“What?” Allura demanded.

_ “Yeah, some… Ms. Haggar?” _

“That would be my mother,” Lotor said. He said it through gritted teeth, and Allura wasn’t sure if it was from the pain or from the sheer hatred for what his mother had become.

Either way: bad sign.

_ “Right, so, he and Ezor got caught,” _ Pidge said.  _ “Keith is busy getting Ozark with Acxa, and Hunk and Matt are still trying to take care of the C4 without causing a panic.” _

“Coran?” Lotor asked.

_ “Trying to manage connections with the media so that, once we have the info, it’s out as fast as possible, _ ” Pidge said.

“The twins?”

_ “...I lost them three minutes ago _ ,” Pidge admitted.

“How did you  _ lose _ two people that big?” Allura demanded.

_ “Well, uh, apparently the room I sent Lance to was the cloning room? And Ryou recognized it? And he and Shiro were arguing over whether to get involved, and then Lance got  _ caught _ , and then they both left.” _

“And they’re too big and skilled for you to have stopped them,” Lotor sighed heavily.

_ “Baaaasically, _ ” Pidge said.  _ “Think you can join up with them so you can get stuff done faster? I’m hoping to split them up, honestly.” _

“Lotor’s injured,” Allura said immediately. “He should go wherever there’s the least chance of fighting.”

“I want to take down my father,” Lotor argued.

“You are  _ bleeding _ from a  _ gut wound _ ,” Allura shot back.

_ “Well, I’m sending Ryou towards Keith and Acxa,” _ Pidge said.  _ “They’re less likely to encounter fighting, I think, since Lance and Ezor already got Haggar’s attention, but more likely to run into Zarkon. Also, you get to be with Ryou.” _

Lotor pointedly didn’t say anything.

“And I’ll go with Shiro to save Lance?” Allura asked.

_ “Bingo, _ ” Pidge said. She sounded a little distracted.  _ “Hold on, I’m gonna aim them towards you. Can you just keep going straight?” _

“Zethrid?” Lotor asked.

“What?” Zethrid asked. She looked from Allura to Lotor and back. “I have no idea what’s going on.”

Ah. Right. Zethrid didn’t have an earpiece.

“Can we keep going straight until we meet up with some allies?” Lotor asked.

“Yeah,” Zethrid said, her lip curling. “We’re not gonna turn for another minute, I think?”

“We’re three floors down?” Allura guessed.

_ “Listen, I just want to get a vague direction so I can aim the boys, _ ” Pidge said.  _ “If you have to turn, just ping me. They’re already inside the building, so… _ ”

“How?” Lotor demanded. “The security is--”

_ “Well, nobody wants to pull any alarms that would bring the police after what Lance did, and the twins are really good at punching out the guards on payroll, _ ” Pidge said.  _ “We’ll… probably pay for their hospital bills or something. Any punch strong enough to knock someone out is cause for concern on the concussions front, tbh.” _

“Did you just  _ say _ ‘tbh?’” Lotor asked.

_ “Oh, shut up _ ,” Pidge said, and the connection cut out.

Allura heard the footsteps thirty seconds later.

(It was the twins, thankfully.)

o.o.o.o.o

“Is it just me, or is it  _ really _ questionable for a corporate headquarters to have an interrogation room?” Lance asked.

“Shut up,” Ezor said.

“I’m just saying, I feel like this is kiiiiiiinda overkill,” Lance said.

“Oh my god,” Ezor groaned, head falling back. Her long, bright pink, bubble ponytail bobbed against the chair. “Do you  _ ever _ shut up?”

“Am I supposed to?” Lance asked. “I mean, I’m criticizing a capitalist tendency towards internal militarization, here. I feel like keeping silent is tantamount to support, don’t you?”

“I don’t  _ care _ ,” Ezor said. “I’m here for a paycheck, not an ethical dilemma. Or at least, I  _ was _ , and then you showed up and started fucking with my plans.”

“Your plans to get a paycheck from one of the most morally questionable corporations in the hemisphere,” Lance clarified.

“I hate you,” Ezor said. She leaned forward, pillowing her head on her forearms as best she could, considering the handcuffs. She tilted her head to stare at Lance, ponytail flopping over her face. “I sincerely hate you.”

“Nah,” Lance said. He started bouncing in his seat. “You don’t.”

Ezor was quiet for a few moments, then hissed in irritation.

“Stop bouncing.”

“No.”

“Stop.”

“Make me.”

“Are you fucking  _ twelve?” _

“I’m thirteen, and don’t you forget it.”

“Oh my  _ god _ ,” Ezor said. She laughed. It was not a nice laugh. “You’re such an asshole.”

“You have to put a quarter in the swear jar,” Lance told her. “It’s the law.”

The door slammed open.

“That was rude,” Lance said to the man that was standing there. “We’re having a conversation.”

“We absolutely are  _ not _ ,” Ezor insisted.

“If you keep having that conversation, I’m breaking  _ both _ your jaws,” the man informed them.

“That sounds like a threat,” Lance said. “Ezor, does that sound like a threat to you?”

“Shut the hell up,” Ezor said.

“She agrees,” Lance told the man. “It sounds like a threat.”

“...I am Throk,” the interrogator said.

“Hi, Throk,” Lance droned. “How long have you been sober for?”

“This isn’t AA,” Ezor said.

“Feels like it.”

“You been to AA?” Ezor questioned.

“Nnnnnnnnnno,” Lance said, after thinking it over. “Ish? Does sitting in on a session for a psychology elective about addiction count?”

“Can I get a different room?” Ezor asked.

“No,” Throk said.

“Please?”

“No.”

“Aw, Ez, I thought we were bonding,” Lance wheedled.

“Ew, don’t call me that,” she said, nose wrinkling.

“Are you stalling?” Throk asked.

“I’m mostly just tired,” Lance said. “And wired. I’ve had  _ so _ much caffeine, dude.”

“Don’t call me dude,” Throk said.

He then calmly reached out, grabbed the back of Lance’s head, and slammed him face-first into the table.

“You’re gonna get blood on my pants,” Ezor told him.

“Oh my god, I already got  _ shot _ , like,  _ yesterday _ ,” Lance complained. “Dude.”

(Okay, so it had been a week and a half. It was still  _ recent.) _

Throk slammed him into the table again.

“I told you not to call me that,” he said, voice still calm.

“He did,” Ezor reminded Lance.

“Ezor, you’re a bitch.”

“Awww, that’s so sweet of you to say,” Ezor cooed.

“I feel like  _ traitor _ may be more appropriate,” Throk said. He crossed his arms and leaned back.

“Can I safeword out of this?” Ezor asked. She raised one hand as high as she could. “I’m not comfortable anymore!”

“We didn’t establish a safeword,” Lance said.

“That seems like poor negotiation.”

“There was no negotiation,” Throk said. “Now--”

“Isn’t that a violation of consent?” Lance asked.

“Definitely iffy,” Ezor agreed.

“What,” Throk said, before Lance could continue, “Were you doing in that room.”

“I was looking for the bathroom,” Lance said, completely bald-faced. “You guys should really have better security on that door.”

Throk reached out and slammed his head into the table again.

“I feel a concussion coming on,” Lance said. He stretched his jaw a few times. “Is my nose broken?”

“You’re not going to get much information out of him if he has a concussion,” Ezor said, not even looking at Lance. She sounded bored.

“And you?” Throk asked, sounding just a little annoyed.

Ezor smiled. “You haven’t read my resume, have you?”

Throk’s eyebrows went up.

“I’m trained to resist torture,  _ thanks _ ,” Ezor sighed. “Been there, done that,  _ boring. _ ”

“You never told me that,” Lance said.

“I’ve known you like two hours, squirt.”

“It’s been thirty minutes and I’m two inches taller,” Lance pointed out.

“Who are you working for?” Throk tried.

“God,” Lance said immediately.

“The Scientologists,” Ezor suggested.

“The church pays better for wetwork than you’d expect,” Lance insisted.

“Do you have  _ any _ idea how much money Lubos has been pouring into that cult?” Ezor asked.

Throk looked from one to the other, and then leaned forward and grabbed one of Lance’s fingers, flattening the rest of the hand to the table as he lifted the pinky. He started pushing it back, and back, and back. “Tell me.”

“There’s antimony, arsenic arsenic, aluminum, selenium,” Lance started singing, feeling a hysterical laugh bubbling up. “And hydrogen and oxygen and nitrogen and rhenium, and ni--FUCK!”

“I’ll break another,” Throk promised. He moved his hands to grab Lance’s ring finger instead.

“This can’t be legal,” Ezor said. She made a face. “What do you think?”

“Fuck you,” Lance groaned.

There was a muffled thump and crash from just outside. Throk frowned, pulled out his keys, and went to unlock the door.

He’d only just gotten the key in when Ezor slipped out of her handcuffs.

She hopped the table, lashing out with a powerful kick to his head, and he fell to the ground, not even groaning.

“Out cold,” she said, and then came over and started fiddling with Lance’s cuffs.

“Hairpin?” Lance asked.

“Got it out just before he came in,” Ezor said. “It was a pain in the ass to keep it hidden and actually get the cuffs open. Thanks for keeping his attention.”

“I had some wonderful help,” Lance laughed. He hissed as Ezor brushed against his snapped pinky.

“You’re a little shit, though,” Ezor told him. “I wasn’t lying about that. You’re  _ incredibly _ annoying.”

“It’s a talent I’ve honed over the course of decades,” Lance told her.

“You’re what, twenty-five?” Ezor snorted.

“Twenty-four, and two decades is still technically decades,” Lance sniffed. “Now let’s get out of here.”

“Hopefully, the company outside is here for us,” Ezor said. She pilfered Throk’s body immediately. “What’re you best with?”

“I’m on guns,” Lance said, and she slid him the gun. “Dude, you didn’t even turn the safety off.”

“I don’t care,” Ezor said. “I slid it across the floor instead of tossing it.”

“Why would you  _ toss _ a loaded gun, oh my god,” Lance groused. “Is it even legal for him to have this?”

“Probably not,” Ezor said, standing up with Throk’s nightstick in her hand. “But since when has Galra Corp. cared?”

Lance shrugged, and then got the gun ready as Ezor quietly, slowly slid the door open.

He lifted the gun directly to point at Shiro’s face.

He then immediately put it down, because,  _ oh _ , that was  _ Shiro. _

“Lance,” Shiro said. He sounded relieved. Good. Lance was relieved, too. “Pidge said you ran into Haggar?”

“She’s probably watching from a different room,” Ezor offered.

“Biggest danger?” Shiro asked.

“Well, she’ll be sending more guards,” Ezor said, poking at one of the men at her feet with the toe of her shoe. “So we should get moving. I don’t suppose you killed the security cameras?”

Shiro winced. “No, the system is honestly a lot better than we can handle on short notice like that. Once they’d already caught on...”

“Right,” Ezor said. She reached down and pulled the USB from her shoe. “So who’s taking this?”

Shiro reached out and plucked it from her fingers before Lance could.

“Hey,” Lance said, pouting.

“You’re injured,” Shiro said. He frowned, then. “Actually, how bad is it? I should have asked if you were okay first thing.”

“Bloody nose, might be broken, possible concussion, and a definitely broken pinky,” Lance rattled off. “Ezor got some hits in earlier, but I don’t think any of it is going to do more than bruise.”

“Computer screen,” Ezor reminded him.

“Right, got a few cuts from that,” Lance said. “Not much, though.”

“Alright, I--”

“Shiro!” A voice came from around the corner, accompanied by jogging footsteps. “I--oh.”

“Hey, princess,” Lance said, smiling and hoping that the blood wasn’t too off-putting. She did seem a little frozen. “You’re a sight for sore eyes.”

She shook herself, and started jogging again. “I found your things. There was a security room that we hit before we found you, and I went back to get your stuff after it looked like Shiro could handle the rest of the security team alone.”

Lance smiled at her, and took his things, and tried to ignore the  _ very sharp knife _ that Ezor grabbed. Okay, so he couldn’t actually see through the sheath or anything, but he’d gotten a sixth sense for dangerous blades after knowing Keith for so long. Lance rifled around until he found his earpiece, and slipped it in.

_ “Lance, you fucking asshole _ ,” Pidge groused.

“Aw, Pidgeon, you missed me?” Lance cooed. “It’s only been a few minutes.”

_ “I hate you.” _

“So does Ezor, you’d get along,” Lance said, strapping on everything as quickly as he could. “Got any good news for me?”

_ “Well, if Shiro would  _ listen _ to me for once,” _ Pidge muttered.

“I was in a rush,” Shiro said. He sounded calm. He probably  _ was  _ calm, too, the bastard.

_ “Get over to that security room, _ ” Pidge said.  _ “It’s only a side office, but it’s got enough connections to the main office that I can shut down a lot of the system if you do the thing. _ ”

“What thing?” Allura asked.

_ “Magic hand stuff _ ,” Pidge answered, completely unhelpful.

“Pidge can hack stuff through Shiro’s prosthesis,” Lance said, smiling when Allura sent a thankful smile of her own his way. “So he’s gonna hook up and let her do her thing.”

“Right,” Allura said. “Er… are you quite alright?”

“I will be,” Lance said. “I mean, I’ve had worse. Recently, even.”

Guilt flashed across Allura’s face, and Lance regretted that. “Okay, sorry, too soon. I  _ will  _ be fine, though. Pretty sure I don’t have a concussion, at least. I’ve had a few of those, and I’ve learned how to recognize them.”

“A few?” Allura asked, immediately concerned.

“Hunk is really high-strung about head injuries,” Lance assured her. “Trust me, he’s made sure that there’s as few lasting consequences as possible from each incident, which means basically  _ none _ .”

Allura’s brow furrowed.

“Trust me,” Lance said, taking her hand in the one that wasn’t holding a gun. Incidentally, it was the hand that had a broken pinky. He held back the hiss. “I know what the risks are. Hunk’s made sure of that. I’m probably at higher risk for long-term concussion symptoms than most people are, at this point, but I’m really aware of that. Keith shows up with some Blade stuff every once in a while to make sure I’m not dying, even.”

“Dying of… brain injuries?” Allura asked, very slowly, like she was questioning the full logic.

“Just… dying in general,” Lance said. He waved the injured hand with a rueful grin. “I tend to get hurt pretty often.”

Allura hissed in a breath, her eyes flickering from his hand to his face to his recently healed shoulder, and then focusing on his face again. “You’re sure you’re alright?”

Lance laughed, slinging an arm around her shoulder. “Nah, but like I said: I will be.”

Allura smiled at him, small and  _ oh shit that was a blush. _

Allura coughed and slipped out from under his arm, speeding up to join Shiro as he slipped through the door.

“So…” Ezor said, leaning over to watch Allura, head right next to Lance’s shoulder. “That’s a thing?”

“Think I have a chance?” Lance asked.

“I mean, I’m a lot less useless than most lesbians,” Ezor said, prompting a choked laugh from Lance. “But I’d say yeah, she seems interested.”

“Sweet,” Lance hissed, with what he thought was an understated fist pump.

Seeing as the fist was his injured hand, it didn’t really matter what he thought, because it still hurt.

Like a bitch.

“You’re a moron.”

“Thanks, Ezor.”

o.o.o.o.o

Allura tried  _ very _ hard not to look at Lance.

So, maybe, just maybe, she had a thing for boys who put their health and safety on the line for the sake of something greater than themselves.

And maybe, just maybe, she considered taking down a corporation this corrupt and evil to be such a cause.

And maybe, just maybe, the growing attraction she’d felt for Lance had flared up a little with how easily he’d brushed off the pain in favor of making  _ her _ feel better.

He really was… very sweet.

“Are they still outside?” Shiro asked.

Allura looked back, saw Lance rubbing at his arm as Ezor laughed at him, and then faced forward. “I think they’re planning to guard us.”

“Mm,” Shiro said. He removed a panel from his arm, pulled a cord from inside, and attached it to the nearest port. “Pidge, do your thing.”

_ “On it _ .”

He shut out the outgoing sound from the earpiece, and then looked over at Allura. He looked over at Lance, and then back at her. “So.”

Allura tilted her head. “What?”

“You stumbled over your words back there,” Shiro said. “And you’re still blushing a little.”

Allura felt the blush flare up harder. “Excuse me?”

“I already knew you liked him,” Shiro said, just a little dismissively. “My question is, how much?”

Allura looked back to where Lance and Ezor were chatting, a frown pulling at her face.

“She’s gay and dating Keith’s older sister,” Shiro said. Allura’s head immediately snapped around to face him. “In case you were worried.”

“I wasn’t.”

He smiled, a little mocking and a little indulgent; he was humoring her. “Sure.”

Allura clenched her jaw and looked away, hugging her elbows and very much not wanting to acknowledge that he’d been right.

Just.

Just a  _ little _ right.

“If it helps, I’m pretty sure he’s interested in you, too,” Shiro said. He laughed when Allura made an affronted little noise that she  _ thought _ she’d long since trained herself out of. “Well, he’s a sucker for pretty faces, people who can kick his ass, people who are good in their fields of choice, and…”

“And?” Allura asked, cursing herself for how eager she  _ knew _ she sounded.

“Thought you said you weren’t interested,” Shiro said.

Oh, good, he was  _ teasing  _ her.

(Hmph.)

“And he likes people who are  _ good _ , and who make him want to be a better person,” Shiro said. “Which… well, I don’t know about the latter, but we all trust Coran’s judgement about a person’s character. He says you’re good people, and I believe him. Lance does, too.”

“Well, I suppose I wouldn’t want you thinking poorly of me,” Allura said. She was absolutely hedging the matter.

“Sure,” Shiro said, again.

_ (Hmph.) _

“Ask him out,” Shiro said, after a few seconds.

Allura licked her lips, glanced back, and then shifted her weight. “After, maybe.”

“If you don’t, I’ll tell him to ask  _ you _ , and that’s going to be embarrassing for everyone involved,” Shiro said.

Allura huffed, turning away.

Ezor’s voice broke through the temporary calm.

“SHIT!”

o.o.o.o.o

Lance ducked into the room where Shiro and Allura were, Ezor just in front of him. He hefted the gun in his hands, trying to run the numbers, as all of them crouched down, listening to Haggar issue orders. There were eleven bullets left in the handgun, and he’d spotted a half-dozen of those weird, willowy guards before Ezor had gotten them out of the way of some kind of… electricity blast?

Ugh, this was really more Keith’s field than Lance’s. Weird weapons that masqueraded as superpowers were  _ not _ Lance’s forte.

“Haggar?” Shiro asked, his voice tight. He was the closest to standing, given that his arm was still up and close to the security desk. He was even doing some odd fiddling with the USB he’d gotten from Lance and Ezor.

(What the  _ hell _ was Pidge doing?)

“And friends,” Ezor confirmed. “I don’t know how we’ll take that many out, her personal guards are  _ wicked _ good.”

“So am I,” Allura said, getting to her feet.

“What,” Lance said.

“I said,” Allura repeated, pulling her sash out and wrapping one end around her fist. It lit up, glowing, and when she snapped it through the air, there was a faint crackle of lightning.

_ “So am I.” _

Lance’s eyes went wide as Allura stepped out into the hallway, and then he scrambled to get a closer look.

(Ezor grunted, annoyed and faintly dismissive.)

(Shiro tried to stop him.)

She was…  _ awesome _ .

In both senses of the word.

Lance watched as she fought, and part of him was absolutely squeeing at the sight of it, going  _ oh my god she’s so cool _ .

The rest of him was literally in awe.

_ I would worship her if she’d let me _ .

Lance put that thought into a tiny little box and shoved it to the back of his mind.

Allura fought like it was second nature, like she’d been learning to do it from the time she was barely old enough to reach the elevator buttons. Lance had seen her fight and shoot a little so far, but there was something dramatic and  _ beautiful _ about this.

The sash was a far better weapon than he could have ever expected, and he’d gotten the rundown on its capabilities from Allura. He knew what that thing could do, theoretically, but the way Allura spun and snapped and wrapped it to outright  _ fling _ her enemies across the hall was mesmerizing.

She would trap their hands in the sash and use it as leverage to toss a guard over her shoulder. She snapped it through the air like a whip to make the guards drop their weapons. She held it rigid in front of her, an unlikely shield, and just ran at the person shooting, crowding them until she made contact, and then using the sash to electrocute them.

“Holy shit,” Lance breathed. “She’s amazing.”

“Keep it in your pants, kid,” Ezor suggested, and he elbowed her in the ribs.

“That’s  _ Haggar _ ,” Shiro said, proving that he was once again the only person in the area that could stay on task. In Lance’s defense, it had been a very long couple of days, and he’d also gotten his face slammed into a table a few times in the very recent past.

“Want me to try shooting her?” Lance offered.

“She’s slippery,” Ezor warned.

“I remember,” Shiro said, the fingers of his prosthetic hand curling in with a faint noise of metal on metal. “And thanks, Lance, but… I think I need to do this part myself.”

“Sure thing,” Lance said. He drew his gun anyway. “But I’ve got your back, man.”

“I appreciate it,” Shiro said, and then sprinted into the fray.

Lance stayed in the shadow of the door with Ezor. “Don’t feel like fighting?”

“Kinda,” Ezor said. “The scarf thing has me thinking that it’s a bad idea, though. Imagine if she accidentally hit me with that!  _ Yikes.” _

“Fair enough,” Lance mumbled.

“You have a better excuse,” Ezor sighed.

“You know, you could just fight the ones that aren’t on her ass right this moment,” Lance told her. “If you’re that eager for some hand-to-hand.”

“Hey, I’m itching for a fight, sure, but not with  _ them _ ,” Ezor said. She shuddered. “The Druids are ridiculous.”

“Druids?” Lance questioned. “Like… DnD druids?”

“I dunno,” Ezor said, shrugging.

One of the druids broke off from the rest to attack them personally, and Ezor did some fancy flip-and-kick that had them sailing right back into Allura’s range.

Ezor continued like nothing had happened. “Haggar has a flair for the dramatic.”

Lance didn’t answer, mostly because Allura had just flung the aforementioned Druid ten feet with her sash and he couldn’t quite figure out how to close his jaw.

“Oh my god, you’re _ whipped _ ,” Ezor whispered. She cackled a little, then pointed at the sash. “Get it?”

Lance almost answered, and then the earpiece crackled.

_ “Get out, _ ” Pidge said. There was a breathlessness in her voice, victorious and giddy and so very full of pride.  _ “As soon as you can. _ ”

o.o.o.o.o

Allura had to hand it to Haggar’s guards: they were incredibly durable.

She’d lost count of how many times she’d landed a blow or an electrocution so far, but they just  _ kept getting up. _

She heard Pidge’s message, but didn’t really see a way out right now.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Lance fumbling, and then saw that he’d raised his gun. She didn’t have the opportunity to get involved before he shot.

Haggar went down like a sack of bricks.

“You ICEd her?” Shiro shouted over his shoulder, going to try and knock out one of Allura’s opponents.

“Kolivan loaned me a night-night gun!” Lance called back.

Shiro kicked one closer to Lance, and the guard went down.

Allura hoped to hell and back that she was right and they weren’t actually killing anyone. She followed Shiro’s example and threw the next guard Lance’s way.

“Oh, this is  _ much _ more efficient,” Ezor commented.

“You could  _ help _ , you know,” Lance said.

“Nah.”

Allura kneed the last of the guards in the stomach, and they went stumbling backwards, right into Lance’s,er… night-night bullets.

He looked her right in the eye and said, “You’re amazing. You know that, right?”

Allura hoped that the dim lighting and her own dark skin hid the blush she could feel crawling up her cheeks. Maybe if he did see it, he’d just dismiss it as the flush of exertion from the fight.

_ “Less flirting, more leaving!” _ Pidge ordered.  _ “Ryou’s group just finished up with Zarkon or whatever, you need to move!” _

“On it,” Shiro said. He looked around, eyes landing on Ezor. “You know that fastest way out?”

“I mean,  _ technically _ the fastest way would be to find the nearest elevator shaft with the elevator on an upper floor and just slide down to the ground floor on the cables,” Ezor drawled. “Or rappelling down the outside of the building.”

“We need something discrete,” Shiro told her.

Ezor pouted. “There’s a private emergency elevator for the security staff. We could use that, if it didn’t get shut down, or isn’t full of goons.”

“Pidge?” Shiro asked, hand to his ear.

_ “On it.” _

Allura glanced down at the bodies littering the floor. “Should we tie them up first?”

_ “No time, just go _ ,” Pidge ordered.  _ “I’m about to blow this bitch wide open and you don’t want to be inside the building when the cops get here _ .”

“Uh, and what about me?” Ezor asked. “I was scheduled for tonight. The police are gonna check.”

_ “Acxa has a plan, apparently _ ,” Pidge said.

Ezor didn’t question anything after that.

“Whipped,” Lance whispered, cackling as he danced out of the way of Ezor’s elbow. “Oh, I’m sorry, you get to tease me but I don’t get to tease you back?”

“I’m older than you, you little shit.”

Allura may have squeaked a little as she found herself being spun around, and then Lance was at her side, arm slipped through hers, grinning up at her through the mess of blood on his face.

She lost her breath at that.

(It was  _ despite _ the blood, she told herself, after her stomach turned. He had a nice smile  _ despite _ the blood, and the blood was not a factor, ugh.)

(Intrusive thoughts begone, etcetera.)

(Allura had the feeling that a number of people would make fun of her for mentally  _ saying _ “etcetera.”)

Lance pulled her along, seemingly giddy, and almost dancing down the hall on a high of victory.

Maybe.

She wasn’t entirely sure.

Allura caught Shiro’s eyes at one point, but he just smiled at her and gestured for her to go ahead.

The journey was halting and slow, involving a handful of fights, a pinch of hiding, and a dash of bickering.

They made it to the bottom floor, and Allura felt her spine prickling at the distant sound of a crowd gathered outside of the building.

“Hold up,” Ezor said, slipping over to a door and opening it just a smidgen. The sign proclaimed it a breakroom.

_ “-of information across the interwebs regarding illegal cloning projects by Galra Corp.,” _ a newscaster was saying, voice faintly staticky.  _ “Along with a number of other illicit activities. There have also been reports of large quantities of explosives found in the basement of the Beta Traz Hotel, which was hosting a Galra-funded charity ball tonight, and has since been evacuated. Authorities have been tight-lipped on the subject, but attempts to reach out have been met with assurances that they’re looking into it. _ ”

“Holy  _ shit, _ Pidge,” Lance whispered. “We got that info less than twenty minutes ago.”

_ “Shiro’s arm has a wi-fi connection, Coran knows people in every major news outlet, and I pull this shit for a living _ ,” Pidge said.  _ “I’m  _ very  _ good at what I do.” _

“Yeah, no kidding,” Lance muttered.

Ezor was frowning up at the TV inside the breakroom, biting at her lower lip. “There’s a bunch of reporters in front of the building. You guys wanna get out?”

_ “Give it thirty seconds, _ ” Pidge said.  _ “Lotor and Keith and Ryou are almost to you _ .”

Shiro relayed the information to Ezor, and then added, “That’s the group that Acxa is with.”

“And Zethrid,” Allura reminded.

Ezor nodded slowly. “How long?”

The pounding footsteps from down the hall answered her question.

“Hey, so, we’re a little doomed,” Ryou said, breathless.

“What?” Shiro demanded.

“Zarkon’s like… super pissed and also half dead? Or something? I don’t know, it’s weird zombie science shit, but we’re kinda fucked,” Ryou panted. “Anyone got any ideas?”

“There’s a crowd of reporters just outside? And police?” Allura suggested. “Is he… chasing you, or...?”

“Yes,” Lotor said. He did not look well.

Acxa stepped forward, and Allura finally noticed that, behind her, Keith stood with a heavily-injured old man on his back.

Ozark.

Damn.

And, well, she didn’t have  _ confirmation _ that this was Acxa, but she was the only person other than Ozark that Allura hadn’t met yet, so it was something of a foregone conclusion.

“Keith, give Lotor your mask,” Acxa said. She looked around, eyes half-lidded and considering. “Zethrid, get everyone else out through the northern garage exit, with the ladder. Ezor, you’re with me. Lotor, if Zarkon catches up…”

Lotor raised an eyebrow. “You forget who built this plan, Acxa.”

“You may have given it the bare bones, Lotor, but I’ve always been the details girl,” Acxa dismissed. She turned to head for the front of the building. “Let’s go.”

Allura caught Lotor’s elbow as he moved past her. “What are you doing?”

“Acxa is going to confirm everything that Pidge released to the internet,” Lotor said, pulling on Keith’s mask. “And when my father shows up to kill me, we’re going to bait him into attacking me in a rage in front of the dozens of cameras outside.”

Allura stared at him, eyes wide. “The mask?”

“Well, I’m still a secret agent,” Lotor said. “It would be best if nobody knew who I was. MI6 will cover for me without releasing my name.”

“So Acxa and Ezor whistleblow, and you get to kill your father,” Allura said.

Lotor shrugged. “Could you blame me if I did?”

Allura thought back, to the stories and the nightmares and those rare, rare bad nights where Lotor couldn’t tell where he was, because he’d felt safe enough with her for his mind to let the cracks start to show.

(She hadn’t been able to handle it, not with her own issues. She’d tried, and it hadn’t been the only problem to end their relationship, but it had definitely been a major one.)

“No,” she said. “I don’t suppose I could.”

She turned and left, following after the others, as Lotor took up a position in the middle of the hall and waited.

For a moment, the roar of the crowd from outside grew louder, a sure sign that Acxa and Ezor had opened the doors and begun their own roles in bringing down the Galra Corporation.

Allura kept her head down and followed Zethrid. A Kingsman did not gloat or take credit for the lives they saved and the good they did. They stepped back, let the world become a better place in the wake of their actions, and did it all again the next day.

She worried, though, as the sounds of a fight erupted behind her.

“He’ll be fine,” Lance said, slipping his hand into hers and squeezing. He smiled again, when she met his eyes. “I’ve seen him fight a few times, now. He’s good.”

“He is,” Allura said.

Ryou stopped, having a hushed argument with Shiro, and then he broke off and headed back towards Lotor. “You guys have fun. I’m gonna...”

Shiro tossed him something.

Ryou caught it, eyebrows raised. “A motorcycle helmet? Where were you even keeping this?”

“Collapsible Marmora tech,” Shiro said. “Just in case Pidge can’t scrub your face from all the videos.”

“I’ll take my chances,” Ryou responded, tossing it back. “See ya, bro.”

_ “I’ll keep him in the clear _ ,” Pidge sighed.  _ “Anyone else gonna get involved?” _

“I think we’re good,” Shiro laughed. He sounded  _ very _ tired.

“We’ve got what we came for, and more,” Keith said. “Let’s just… go.”

Zethrid grunted and headed off down the hallway again. The rest of them followed.

o.o.o.o.o

The next few hours passed hazily for Lance. He slept a lot, and got cleaned up and received medical treatment, and sat around in one of the twins’ comfy chairs at the bar. The TV was playing the news, constantly. Even the regular patrons were watching in fascination as the news anchors on ever channel reported the mass of human rights violations and broken laws that Galra Corp. had been sweeping under the rug for years. There was footage of Zarkon smashing through the front doors of his own building to attack Lotor and Ryou. They’d played it off well, on the defensive until it was clear that Zarkon was the aggressor, and  _ then _ put him down.

(Lance was a little relieved that they hadn’t killed him. Grievously injured, yes, but… not dead.)

Lotor had professed a connection to MI6, and the news outlets had all independently confirmed that. Ryou had stayed silent, and nobody had really bothered to question his part in the wake of all the other drama. Haggar and her druids had been led out in cuffs after Zarkon had been loaded up into a stretcher and carried off. Lotor had, at least, insisted on accompanying the ambulance, in his role as MI6 member.

Given that a few Galra Corp. agents had tried to hijack the vehicle halfway to the hospital, this had been a good idea.

Acxa had stood in front of the Galra Corp. building and rattled off lists and lists of illegal activities that she had witnessed or even been party to, working below Haggar in R&D. She’d stood on those steps in the middle of the night, lights glaring and cameras flashing and so, so many microphones in her face, and she’d blown the loudest whistle she could.

Considering that everything she said was corroborated by the information that Lance and Shiro had gotten to Pidge, most people didn’t try to challenge her.

Ezor had even jumped in a few times to confirm that Galra Corp. had its own interrogation rooms, secret agents, and what amounted to an illegal paramilitary force. As a security guard with,  _ apparently _ , a long background in gathering information, she’d seen plenty of that herself.

(Lance really wanted a look at that resume she’d mentioned.)

“Beer?” Shiro asked, stopping next to Lance and getting a better look at the TV. They were going over the updated legal proceedings, now that the FBI had gotten dragged in. There was a video of Haggar being led out of the building, wild-haired and in handcuffs. She didn’t speak as she was led past, just stared straight ahead as she was hustled into a police cruiser.

When Lance looked over, Shiro had a faint smile on his face.

“Good to finally see those two go down?” Lance asked.

“You have no idea,” Shiro said. On the screen, the reporter switched to interviewing Lotor, on-screen as Zarkon’s son and the heir to the company. Nobody had caught on to the fact that the MI6 agent and Lotor Daibazaal, heir to Zarkon’s massive shares in Galra Corp. if he died or got imprisoned, were the same person. That was…  _ definitely  _ a good thing.

“Cheers,” Lance said, raising the hand with the taped pinky as if he already had a drink in it. “And, uh, no beer. Can I get a club soda, though?”

“It’ll be on the house,” Shiro told him, with a faint laugh. “By the way…”

“I feel threatened,” Lance said, immediately.

“Allura and Coran are coming by, soon,” Shiro pushed away from Lance’s chair and headed for the counter that Matt was manning. “I think they wanted to talk to you.”

“I thought they were handling the Ozark thing?” Lance asked.

“They did,” Shiro said. He was still close enough to talk without risk of the other patrons hearing. Thankfully, it was early enough in the day that barely anyone was there, and the people who were there were sitting far away, and wouldn’t be able to hear them over the music. “But Coran’s running Voltron with us, and Allura is kind of on the team now, so…”

“Second debrief?” Lance guessed.

Shiro shrugged, bringing over the club soda. “Or something.”

Lance turned back to the TV as Shiro took a seat next to him. “Think it’s going to keep up the momentum? They’ve hushed things up before.”

“Not something this big,” Shiro guessed. “Not when we’ve got Pidge on it to keep up circulation of information, I think. If the furor starts to die down before they get what’s coming for them, she’ll stoke the flames a bit.”

“Ooh, metaphor.”

“I’m not wrong,” Shiro said.

“I mean, you’re not, but still. Metaphor.”

Lance didn’t look up when the door jingled, but there was something familiar in the voices, even at a murmur, that caught his attention.

“Lance!” Allura called, jogging over. She hesitated, and then slid into the armchair next to his. “I wanted to speak with you before going home.”

“Aw, leaving us already?” Lance teased.

“Unfortunately, I do have a job to do,” Allura said. She cupped her hands over her knees for a moment, and then folded her hands back into her lap. She glanced at Shiro, and at Coran, and then turned to Lance again.

“So… what do you want to talk about?” Lance asked.

“Well, I did want to see if you were alright, first,” Allura admitted. “You got injured a lot more than I did.”

“All better,” Lance promised. “I mean, mostly. There was no concussion, so that’s good, and the rest could be patched up pretty easily, so I’m just not allowed to do any fancy stuff for a week or two.”

“Good, that’s… good,” Allura said. She fidgeted, and took a deep breath. “You know, I don’t think you ever really got to enjoy that vacation you were supposed to be on.”

“Yeah, kinda missed out,” Lance laughed. He tried not to sound bitter. “But hey, I got to leave Miami for the first time in, like, a year and a half. It’s good.”

“Well, I have some free time coming up, so if you’d like to come to London, I could… show you around a bit?” Allura tucked a curl of hair behind her ear. She didn’t meet his eyes. “I know you’ve been there before, but it’s a very old city. There’s always new things to see.”

Very faintly, Lance heard Shiro go, “Oh my  _ god _ .”

“That sounds nice,” Lance said. He smiled, encouraging and maybe a little silly. “You got any plans?”

“A few possibilities,” Allura said. She wet her lips, and then continued. “If you’d like, we could… treat it as a date?”

Lance blinked, and felt his grin grow wider. “Yeah?”

“Yes,” Allura said. She faltered, and then said, “And, I know you said that you and Keith have… something? And he helped us out quite a lot, he seems nice. If you’d feel more comfortable having him there as well, I wouldn’t be opposed.”

Lance felt something in his chest twist. It was a nice twist.  _ Damn _ . “So you’re saying you’d be down with poly?”

“I suppose I am,” Allura said. She finally met his eyes. “If you’re willing to let me in, of course.”

“I’m sure something could be arranged,” Lance said. “How about we trade off? A few days just you and me, and a few days for all three of us?”

“I like the sound of that,” Allura admitted. There was a blush on her cheeks. Her fingers tightened, where they were laced across her knees. “How soon do you think you could be ready to travel?”

“I mean, if the hotel still has my stuff…” Lance trailed off, and then glanced at Coran.

“You didn’t call, did you?” Coran asked. Lance shook his head. “Well, there’s a private Kingsman jet coming for myself and Allura, and I believe Pidge got you an extra passport, since the last one is still in England.”

“Hotel probably threw my stuff out,” Lance sighed. “Or the police claimed it all as evidence, since there were bullets and everything.”

Shiro poked Lance in the shoulder. “In that case, Kolivan might be able to get it back for you.”

“Oh. Yeah. I’ll talk to Keith,” Lance said. He turned to Allura again. “I guess the answer is that I’m ready to leave whenever you are.”

Allura nodded, not meeting his eyes.

“You know, I think the make-out closet is probably empty,” Shiro said. He sounded bored, but Lance  _ knew _ he was teasing. “In case you wanted to take advantage of that.”

“ _ Dude!”  _ Lance protested.

Allura buried her face in her hands.

Shiro headed back to the bar as a few more people trickled in through the door. “Coran, I think Pidge wanted to talk to you. Allura, Lance… you’re both adults but I’m gonna ask you to be safe anyway.”

“Shiro!”

Lance and Allura sat in silence for a few seconds, after Coran slipped away to go talk to Pidge. Lance pulled a hand down his face, let it fall against the armrest, and then asked. “So, I’m going to assume it’s a little early for heated closet makeouts, but we could go into the back to talk? Get to know each other a little better?”

Allura nodded, and smiled, and reached out to put her hand on his. “I think I’d like that.”

As he stood up, Lance thought to ask, “Oh yeah, you never did tell us what was so special about that microchip you were trying to get to Ozark in the first place.”

Allura brushed past him, hair floating behind her as she said, with definite glee, “I’m afraid that’s classified.”

“Oh, come on! We’re on the same side!”

“Classified!” Allura teased, and Lance didn’t fight to keep the grin off his face as he followed her through the door. 

Allura was  _ perfect. _

o.o.o.o.o

_ Several Days Later _

“Okay, this is just suspicious,” Allura said, pressing herself into a corner. “We’ve been back a total of two days!”

“We’re trouble magnets,” Keith said. “Also, my mom has a lot of hits out on her from the local mobs, like  _ all _ of them, and they like to think they can get to her through me.”

“And I have enemies everywhere,” Lance added.

“At least it’s not boring?” Keith offered.

Allura looked between the two of them, and then sighed. “It really isn’t.”

She gave Lance a kiss on the cheek, gave them both a devil-may-care grin, stepped out of hiding, and proceeded to kick ass.

“Damn, that woman is amazing,” Lance sighed.

“Yep,” Keith said. He drew his knife and spun it around in his hand a few times. He grinned at Lance. “Ready to join in on the fun?”

Lance grinned right back. “Always.”

They liked Allura, sure, but she couldn’t keep  _ all _ the fighting to herself, right?

(And if later that night, the three tumbled into bed together, still high on adrenaline and the thrill of making it out alive, well… that was just to be expected, wasn’t it?)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so we've reached the end! Ta-da! Please review, this project was a lot of fun and I'm hoping y'all enjoyed it.
> 
> If you liked this, my other major project for the past few months has been "Your Exit is in Another Castle," another Voltron fic (with background Kallurance) inspired by Star Trek holodeck episodes, the Matrix, and a handful of Naruto fics I read and somewhat liked when I was younger.

**Author's Note:**

> Lance (+ Hunk): Burn Notice  
> Allura (+ Coran): Kingsman  
> Lotor: James Bond (closest to Brosnan)  
> Keith: Baby Driver  
> Blade of Marmora: Agents of SHIELD  
> Shiro & Ryou: Die Hard, bit of AoS  
> Holts (& more): Leverage


End file.
